We All Fall Down
by Fudgebrowniez
Summary: "You really think we could make it out here?" She asked, sweat beading down her neck. "As long as I'm with you, we could do anything." We All Fall down, a horror/romance set in place 2 weeks after the Green Flu took over.4 familiar survivors find her. And she finds herself in the Con Man, She just doesn't know it. FOR MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY: contains drug use, sex, profanity.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! I wanted to start this story off with an authors note. If you have read any of my other stories, you know I'm ADDICTED to LFD2. After a lot of writing, I decided to start another project. Please bare with me, as I am a senior in High School and will not have a set schedule. I currently have about three chapters done so far. So i'll continue writing, and post chapters when I feel you guys have waited long enough XD Please make sure and take a look at my other (finished!) LFD story.**

 **IMPORTANT: This story is extremely graphic. Includes: Profanity, Sex, Drug Use, Gore, ect. You've been warned!**

 **~Fudge.**

"Woah."

The first voice she head in months, had to be such a lame word. Woah. Like, c'mon. It's not everyday that a zombie apocalypse takes over the whole Eastern Coast, and you find a lone survivor holed up in one of the government built safe houses. She looked up from her current task, which was wiping the blood and gore from her precious katana. Years working at a local dive bar for this beauty, which came in handy for this very scenario.

"This safe room's kinda occupied." She responded, looking down into the reflection of her sword. She looked like shit.

"Sweetheart, we've been traveling for days on end and this is the first room we've seen since we got in this shit hole. So kindly shut your trap and share, got it?" A seething voice blared behind the first, shoving his way into view.

He wore a bloody and all over destroyed white suit, with a blue undershirt that looked just as bad. He had black hair that now fell around his face messily, but she had a feeling he used to gel it back. His features were hard set into a sneer, rage burning in his eyes. She snorted. Why was he getting so worked up over a joke?

"I was kidding, take a joke sleaze bag. C'mon in, dinners almost ready!" She exclaimed with a fake sugar sweet voice.

The group piled in, giving her a perfect chance to look them all over. The man who first entered the room was the youngest, probably around her age or younger. He wore a mechanic's hat and matching coveralls, with a yellow-mustard shirt soaked in sweat and blood. The eldest, and unspoken leader was a burly African with a purple shirt and a bald head. Even though he was built like a tank, his eyes had a soft sparkle to them. He wouldn't be a problem. The only girl was a petite, lighter skinned yet still ethnic beauty. She had on a pink band tee with jeans and boots, and held her puny sub machine in a way that screamed "novice."

"I'm Ellis, you can call me that or El if you'd like. But people always tell me El sounds like a girls name." The mechanic hopped on the ratty mattress I was sitting on, slightly moving the rag across the katana and nearly slicing her finger open in the process.

"Pleasure." She murmured, getting back to it.

"Ya aren't gonna tell me your name?" Ellis said in such a sappy puppy dog voice, her eyes rolled at the sugary sweetness.

"My name's not relevant, not like we'll ever see each other again."

"Listen here, child." The eldest man boomed. "If we're gonna share this room for the night, treat us with at least some respect. We might be the only survivors you'll meet in this shithole. With that attitude.." He trailed off.

"You'd probably piss Nick off to the point of wanting to murder you." Rochelle laughed, ambling off to prepare a meal for the group. That reminded me of the growl her my stomach.

"If you so insist." She sighed, pushing a strand that snuck out of her messy pigtails. "Harley."

Ellis laughed, a throaty and bellowing noise. "Like Harley Quinn!"

"Which one is it, the name or the pigtails?" Harley snapped.

"Oh c'mon, just poking a little fun."

She heard the flick of metal on flint, which ignited into a thin flame. She looked over to see the suited man, Nick, lighting a slightly crumpled cigarette with shaking palms.

"Getting your fix there, ol' man?" Harley whistled, laughing to herself.

"Oh go to hell, dumb bitch." Nick retorted after exhaling deeply.

"I wouldn't piss Nick off, he flies off the wall a lot." Ellis whispered into Harley's ear, sending uncomfortable goose bumps up her neck.

"I noted that."

The time spent waiting for Rochelle to make them dinner was excruciatingly awkward. Harley kept to herself, finishing cleaning the Katana and resorting to flicking wads of lint into the corner off the accompanying ratty blanket. No way in hell someone would waltz in here and take this bed away from her, she had staked her claim and was sleeping on it. Yeah it was a queen and could easily fit another body, fuck that. Ellis kept a constant chatter, either to Coach or to Harley or just himself. Coach had the decency to nod every now and then, but Harley completely ignored him. Nick was still shadowed in the corner, but Harley could see over the burn of his cigarette butt his narrowed eyes watching her.

"Well, here's your guy's food. Harley, I made you some if you'd like, you look like you're in need of a well cooked meal." Rochelle handed out styrofoam bowls filled to the brim with mashed potatoes and gravy.

Harley nodded her thanks and dug in. Both the potatoes and gravy were out of a box, but it was the best meal ever. Harley relied on raiding stores and just eating whatever she could. That meant a lot of nights going to sleep hungry. But it was better than being dead, that's for sure. She devoured her meal and was finished before everyone else, getting a snicker from Nick. Harley sent a death glare in his direction which kept him quiet for the rest of the meal. After a while, Nick set his empty bowl down and pulled out a deck of worn cards from his breast pocket, absentmindedly shuffling them.

"You know how to play?" This was the first thing Nick had said to Harley since his outbursts.

"Lil bit, why?" Harley tried to put a defensive snarl on the end, but it came out sounding too nice.

"You were eyeing my cards, thought I might wanna show you a thing or two."He grinned, a lopsided, half smile.

"Let's start with a little Texas Hold 'Em, maybe transition into some Blackjack later on." Harley commanded, shuffling over to Nick's shady corner.

"Do not fall asleep on my bed, Ellis." Harley shot to him, who was beginning to doze asleep.

Nick chuckled and began to shuffle the cards. Harley eyed his hands carefully, making sure his suit sleeves didn't have any cards being put into the mix. He caught her watching and laughed again, this time a more genuine, throaty noise.

"What?" Harley snapped, her face slightly reddening. Did Nick think she was checking him out? Eww.

"You really do know how to play, surprising." He had a glint in his eye when he said that.

"Oh bite me. What are we gonna bet with" Harley looked around, finding nothing.

"Hmm. How about this princess. At the beginning of each round we'll set a wager. Example, i would start by saying 'If I win you have to go drink from that faucet." He pointed to a nasty looking spigot covered in mold and fungus. "Winner is the one who doesn't pussy out."

"First off, don't call me princess. Second of all, get ready to get whooped."

"Alright let's start things off easy. If I win, you have tell me something about your past." Nick raised an eyebrow, looking at me.

"Fine. If I win…. I want that chain of yours." Harley eyed the silver chain around his neck, hidden under his shirt.

"Fuck princess, you drive a hard bargain. Ex-wife got me this thing, let's hope the luck is in my favor!" He snorted, dealing the cards.

She laughed, eyeing him as he dealt out cards. He picked up his cards while keeping a look on her, obviously trying to read her. She peeked at her cards. Two 7's, which matched up with a seven of spades in the middle. That wasn't too bad, and she kept her face blank.

"Your call, cupcake." Nick mumbled, looking at his cards again. She watched him carefully. His eyes were slightly narrowed, and his lips were pursed.

"I'll call." Harley said, trying not to sound too arrogant.

"As do I." He responded, flipping over the fourth card. A jack of diamonds, nothing special.

"Check." Harley said quickly. Damn it, coming off as too eager.

They continued until the last card was flipped. A 7, two Jacks, a queen and a four. Harley was sure of her hand. He set his hand down, which made her snort. A measly King and 3. Harley responded by putting her hand down in a triumphant smirk, making Nick growl under his breath.

"Hand it over, suit!" Harley smirked, holding her palm out.

Nick pulled the chain off and placed it in her palm, his fingertips lightly brushing across her skin. They were cool, and still surprisingly soft. The sterling silver was heavy in her hand, and took her mind off of the sensation of being touched by Nick. He seemed unaffected by the simple gesture, but Harley hadn't had a human touch her since the outbreak started. She looked up with a blank face. They continued to play, and Ellis eventually snuck over and was dealt in. He was pretty good, but had no poker face whatsoever. He even let out a holler when he was dealt the only full house in the game. Both Nick and I shared a grimace, mainly because of his annoying noises. I ended up winning most of the games, but still lost some of the time. Nick agreed to letting me "pay up" after Ellis wandered off. Night quickly came, and Coach was the first one to doze off. Rochelle had explained that he sustained a pretty decent wound on his torso and was tired.

Harley returned to her bed, starring at the horseflies that were circling around the fluorescent light. She also noticed how quiet it had gotten outside, the only noise being chirps from crickets. It was surprising to her how much life had made it out unscathed. She had even seen a deer in her travels, something she swore would have been eaten by a commoner. But alas, it wandered around in the streets searching for something. Harley had noticed that while the infected did smell its life, they seemed to be disinterested in it. Almost like they had a preference for the taste of human flesh, picky bastards.

"So Harley." Nick broke into her thoughts. He was still in his corner, only he had pulled a sleeping bag out and was sitting on the top of it.

"Yes?" Harley turned to him, tucking her feet under herself. The wind coming in through the safe room bars was turning chilly.

"You have to pay up for your bets now." He said, looking right into her eyes.

Harley grimaced, turning to look around. Coach and Ellis were out like a light, while Rochelle was tossing and turning in her sleep.

"Yeah okay, what do you want to know?" She said defensively, already feeling uncomfortable. Talk wasn't something she was good at.

"About your past. What you did before shit hit the fan." He twiddled his thumb around his index finger.

"Why do you care?" Harley shot back.

"Honestly, cupcake, I don't care. Just sick and tired of hearing the same shit from Ellis. God knows Coach and Rochelle don't talk much." Nick said it with a bite in his voice.

"Fine then…" She sighed. "I'm from Toronto. I was born in New York so I have dual citizenship, but my Dad had to move for his job as an accounting manager for some prestigious bank. Never met my mom, she took off basically right after my birth and left me with my Dad. I have a picture of her but other than that, nothing really. I was studying at a University for Art. Apparently my drawings were pretty decent. My dorm mate and I were pretty close, so when my 21st came up she wanted to surprise me. We had to take different flights down, she made it and I didn't."

Nick said nothing for a while, and then sighed deeply. "y'know, my parents were never around. I left home when I was 17 to live with my girlfriend at the time. So you're lucky to at least have one person in your life to give a shit about you."

This made Harley laugh, a bitter laugh. "You honestly think my Dad gave a shit about me?"

"Enough to house you, feed you and send you to a college. So yeah." Nick sneered.

"Well, obviously I shouldn't of told you about my past seeing as though you're going to be an asshole regardless of what I say." Harley huffed, throwing her shoes on the ground and settling into the bed. She faced the wall, too pissed off to say anything to him. What a fucking asshole!

She seethed in bed thinking of all the ways to kill him in the morning, and quickly drifted off to sleep.

 **Hope you liked! Make sure to leave comments and follow for quicker updates. Any questions or concerns? Contact me. I will be needing OC's in the future.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N this is a really long chapter mainly** **because** **I need to update more often. Hope you like.**

 **Fudge**

She awoke to sunlight streaming through the bars, reflecting on the dust particles inside the room. It was early, probably around 6. None of the others were up, and the moaning of the infected were present again. Damn. Harley stretched deeply, throwing her arms out and curling her toes. It was a simple thing that brought her content. She got up and laced up her hiking boots, assessing her outfit. It wasn't anything much, something she had to throw together. Her lace up boots were tucked into thin black leggings, with an army green jacket tied around her hips and a white graphic tee shirt with a worn design of Pink Floyd's "The wall" album cover.

Harley didn't want to get up, but she knew the commoners were starting to get more fatigued. She found out that they were a lot more aggressive at night than they were at early dusk than evening or night. Harley began to roll up her belongings, stuffing them into the heavy duty backpack she had snatched from a local sports store.

"You goin' somewhere?" She heard the southern drawl of Ellis, which spooked her.

"Yeah, probably going to take off to find the next saferoom." Harley responded curtly.

"Well I just assumed yah were gonna join up with us." He sadly grimaced, sitting up.

"Ellis, why in the world would I do that?" She said, exasperated.

"You're all alone, Har. How do you get those back-humpers or hunters off of yah?"

"I throw them off, I'm a strong enough girl." She laughed, this time a real one.

"Won't yah stay with us? Or at least stay until Coach wakes up so I can ask." Ellis had a pleading voice, almost like a child whining for a toy at the store.

Harley sighed, obviously uncomfortable. "Okay, but you owe me."

Ellis let out a big "whoop" startling Rochelle. She woke up with eyes wide, reaching for her pistol. Ellis laughed again, making Harley roll her eyes. Such a kid.

"Sorry to wake you up, Rochelle." Harley apologized, sitting back down and throwing her bag off.

"You deciding to join us?" She asked sleepily.

"I didn't think that was my choice to be honest." Harley grabbed the back of her neck, a nervous tick she did a lot.

"Oh of course you can follow us honey." Rochelle smiled warmly. "We're just trying to find an Evac zone."

"Will you guys shut the fuck up?" Nick grumbled, rolling around in his sleeping bag.

She remembered by hatred of him, and walked over to him and nudged his body with the foot of her boot. He cursed loudly at Harley, grabbing her foot and yanking her down to the floor. She yelped in surprise and threw her hands out, surprised when her hands hit his body. She was pressed right on top of him, her nose touching his. Before Harley could throw herself off of him and freak out, he grabbed her wrists and his face turned murderous.

"Sweetheart. I'm going to be as nice as possible before I rip your throat out. Stop being a fucking bitch and leave me alone." He said in a deathly calm voice.

"Fuck you." She spat in his face, ripping herself off of him.

Ellis and Rochelle were chuckling in the background, while Coach was stretching lazily. Harley saw red, her body shaking with anger. She stormed out of the saferoom, katana in hand. She ran up to the nearest infected, grabbing it by the arm and slicing its throat. Others quickly noticed and were running at her, hands outstretched. Harley kicked one back and stabbed another through the stomach. She then backed herself further away from the small group of infected, yanking out a small side pistol. She shot blindly. A few of them went down with fatal shots, but a couple were still wailing and moaning, coming right towards her. Harley's katana sliced through their bodies like butter. She finally stood, panting and sweating, hands on her knees. She quickly pulled the hair ties out of her blonde hair, yanking it up into a high ass ponytail. Sweat was dampening on the back of her neck, and her feet were on fire.

"Well slap my ass and call me Sally!" Ellis hooted, shutting the safe room door. The rest of the group was behind him, obviously ready. Coach had her bag in his strong arms, while Nick was slinking behind the rest of the group.

"Shut up before I pop your ass too." She puffed, out of breath.

Coach laughed, a burly and booming guffaw. Harley shrugged and grabbed her bag from Coach and throwing it over her shoulder. The sun shined brightly, making the mall in the back shine brightly. They seemed to be heading in that direction.

"So we're headed to the mall then?" Harley asked, slight worry in her voice.

"Yeah, we heard CEDA was still there." Coach responded first, looking at the others.

Harley snorted, rolling her eyes. "CEDA got the hell out of here ages ago."

"Still doesn't help to look, though." Ellis said brightly, his perky voice annoying her even more.

"I guess not." That was the rest of what Harley said before they came into sight of infected.

She stayed in the far back as Coach and Ellis shot their weapons, something she was in need of. A good gun. Ellis had a sawed off double barreled shot gun, and Coach toted a simple M16 rifle. Harley noticed Rochelle had stuck to a magnum, considering she was such a small girl. Harley doubted Rochelle could carry the weapons Coach or Ellis did. She glanced at Nick, noticing he was using a gun she couldn't name.

"Fuck, listen." Ellis whispered, quickly stopping in his tracks.

She quickly pointed her head in the direction he was looking, hearing the unmistakable growl of a hunter. That could be a lot of trouble. She got on her haunches, using Nick as a meat bag in front of her. He looked behind him and snorted, but stayed in front of her. Hmm. The hunter screeched, flying off the roof of the nearest building and landing right in front of her. The next few seconds were a blur. Nick shoved her out of the way, throwing her against the concrete wall of the freeway. He took his gun and shoved the butt into the Hunters forehead, blood spattering the wall.

"Holy shit, that was close." Rochelle said.

"Yeah, it was." Nick said, his eyes not leaving Harley.

"Let's just keep on going." Harley peeled her eyes away from him and started walking.

"I think we should go through here." Ellis pointed towards a door right by one of the barricades. We went through the building to another freeway, which was surprisingly empty other than a few common infected. they had to scale a dumpster to get into another building, which surprised her to find a few guns lying around. But the reason they were here made her whole body go cold. Blood was spattered up the concrete wall, fibers of tissue and muscle handing. Two bodies were completely ripped to shreds, organs and bones lying haphazardly on the ground.

"Oh my god." Rochelle was the first to make a noise, holding her hands up to her face.

"Holy shit man." Ellis whispered, taking off his cap.

She walked over to one of the bodies, nudging the flesh with her boot. It didn't move, and the unmistakable stench of rot confirmed her suspicions.

"Well, they aren't getting up, thats for sure." Harley circled around them, picking up one of their guns.

"Don't you think we should leave those, for a sign of respect er something?" Coach asked.

"We don't need respect when we're fighting for our lives." Harley blinked.

It was a really nice, simple rifle. She found some ammunition laying right by the med station, and realized this was probably a hold out for the pair until they got overrun. It was morbid, but she was thankful they had sacrificed their lives. It would help her getting through the hordes that lie before her. They walked out of the building and realized it was a walkway above the road they needed to get on, and the only way down was to jump on to the roof of a bus.

"Hold up, probably want to get rid off all those before we get down." Harley called.

"Good thinking." Nick piped up.

Harley ignored him, placing her rifle on the guard rail and looked down the scope. One by one, she shot off the heads of infected, rewarded each time with a spurt of blood and brains on the road. She was the only one shooting until Ellis hopped down on the bus and took matters into his own hands. Harley was about to curse at the young southerner, but the way he was handling the infected was too good to be scolded for. Coach and Rochelle hopped down next, leaving her and Nick up still on the guard rail. Nick got down, cursing as his knees gave him strain.

"Need some help, princess?" He smirked at Harley, noticing her wary look.

"Oh shut the fuck up, Nick." She responded by gracefully jumping down, stepping on his foot in the process.

They continued down the road, pressing on against the infected. Harley fastened the sniper around her back with the strap, and relied mainly on her katana. A sniper wouldn't be of good use in close quarters. The group got to a long walkway, a store in the near distance. Something was off though, and the only ones to notice were herself and Ellis. Harley quickly put a finger to her lips, uttering a noise to silence everyone. The unmistakable grunts and growls put Harley into a panic.

"What is it, crazy?" Nick harshly whispered, everyone in the group giving him death glares.

"Tank, man." Ellis responded, his eyes as wide as saucers.

At that moment the hulk of flesh came barreling down the walkway, his beady eyes focusing on them. He charged, and the five took off running down the stairs. They led it back to the road, giving them more space. Harley dove behind a pickup, yanking the sniper off her back and focusing. She shot right at him, most of the bullets landing in his abnormally huge biceps. He screamed with rage, picking up a large chunk of rock.

"WATCH OUT!" Coach bellowed, running back into the building.

The tank shot the rock at Rochelle and Ellis, who narrowly avoided it. Harley got up on the bed of the pick up and shot, one of the bullets luckily hitting it right between the eyes. The tank went down with one final roar, falling onto the concrete with a dull thud. She sighed in relief, glad no one was hurt. That is, until the tongue lashed out and grabbed Rochelle. Rochelle screamed before the smoker tightened his grip on her throat, pulling her up the side of the intersection.

"Smoker!" Nick called out, trying to shoot.

Harley aimed down her scope and just saw the peep of the infected's head. She shot, the body exploding with a putrid green smelling gas. Rochelle fell a good ten feet, landing on her knees. She yelped in pain, straightening her knees to reveal deep road rash.

"Shit." Ellis mumbled, ripping a medical kit off his back.

"No, we can't do this out in the open, a horde could hear us." Harley called out.

"What do you suggest then, sugar?" Rochelle said as sweetly as possible, but there was an edge to her voice.

"Wasn't there a store of sorts right past that walkway?" Coach came out, noticing Rochelle.

"If we can make it there, we could board up the doors and fix you up!" Ellis exclaimed.

"I can carry you, if you cant make it that far." Coach held his hand out to Rochelle.

"No, i'm good for now. Let's just make it as fast as possible." She gritted.

Harley led the way, managing to clear out the few stragglers that loitered around the store. When she saw the stores name, she almost cheered. A fucking gun store.

"Oh fuck yes." Harley grinned, kicking the door in.

It was like paradise. Fully loaded, brand spanking new guns lined the walls, along with stockpiles of ammunition for everything. Coach led Rochelle to a plastic chair that was set up in the back corner, while Ellis ripped open his kit and began tending to her knees. Harley wasn't good with that whole medical shit, so she tended to stay far away from gore and blood. Which was damn near impossible now, but she sucked it up. She took a shiny hunting rifle off of the wall, inspecting it. This would do, she wasn't one to play around with the fully automatic ones. Leave that to the boys.

"This is like heaven." Ellis nearly drooled once he finished up with Rochelle.

"Damn straight." Nick responded, loading up an AK-47.

Harley went to the pistol section of the store, breaking the glass in to pick up a magnum. As she did, one of the splinters of glass sliced open her left index finger. She cursed loudly, grabbing the finger and trying to stop the flow of blood. Luckily, Ellis still hadn't zipped up his bag. He ran over to the kit and found a few bandages and a roll of pre-wrap.

"Want me to wrap it all up for you?" Ellis asked kindly.

"Yeah sure, not like I know how to do any of this." Harley mumbled, getting up and sitting on the only wooden countertop, where the cash register was.

She opened the register to find it filled with money, something that would of excited her a few months before. Money meant nothing now, it was literally inked up paper. She looked around the walls, studying the pictures of shiny guns and deer antlers. Her eyes also vaguely stopped on Nick. He was struggling to put a laser sight on his weapon, his brow furrowed and a thin line of sweat appearing on his forehead.

She shook her head, prying her eyes of off him. Why was he so interesting to her? Why was it, that she was fucking pissed but still liked his presence? She was torn out of it when Ellis poured disinfectant on her cut, the burning sensation making a scream erupt from her lips.

"Sorry darlin, just making sure you don't get this infected." He laughed at the irony.

"A little notice would have been nice." Harley growled through gritted teeth.

"C'mon Ellis, just fix her up." Nick snapped.

Harley looked at him, her brows knotted in confusion.

He quickly noticed, and retracted what he said. "Y'know, so we can get out of here."

She rolled her eyes, turning back to her now taped up finger. It still throbbed from the disinfectant, but she was ready to move on. She picked up the hunting rifle and carefully picked up the magnum, putting in in her thigh holster. She hastily attached a red dot attachment to it, much quicker than Nick did. She wasn't humble about that. The door to get up to the roof was locked, but had an intercom. Coach pressed the button, and a voice quickly coughed into it.

"Well I see you made yourself at home with my guns." The man laughed, no bitterness in his voice. "Listen, my names Whitaker. I done holed myself up on the roof, but I forgot my damn cola! Go into that store right next to us and retrieve me some cola, and I'll blast you a path to the mall."

The door unclicked, leaving us five with dumbfounded looks.

"So he wants us to get cola, in a zombie apocalypse." Nick sneered.

"We took his guns, we owe him, Nick." Rochelle was the first to hesitantly walk up the stairs.

They followed Rochelle up the concrete stairs, Ellis picking up a fire fighters axe that was bolted to the wall. A melee weapon would be nice, Harley thought. They were on the roof of the building, with numerous infected lining the streets.

"I got this." Harley mumbled, setting her gun on the concrete wall.

She looked down the scope, aiming at the infected's heads. They spattered as she pulled the trigger, some bullets flying into arms or chests. She heard the others take shots at the wandering zombies, a small horde taking notice of us. They piled over the shrubbery and fences, screaming as they smelled flesh. She threw her rifle over her shoulder and pulled her shiny katana out of its sheath. The stragglers who had gotten past Coach and Ellis were quickly chopped to bits by her sword. Ellis had run down to the store, trying to pry open the doors. No dice.

"Why aint it opening, boy?" Coach boomed.

"Think there's an alarm er something on the door." Ellis said, utterly confused.

Harley snorted. "Gotta make it even more hard on us."

"Nick, go with Ellis. Get the damn cola and throw it to us, we'll cover you from up here." Coach instructed.

That was Harleys cue to use her rifle. She sheathed her katana and the gun was pushed up against her shoulder once more, her scope following the two men. Nick looked hesitant as Ellis pried the doors open with a crowbar, the siren screech nosy and unpleasant. This was the calm before the storm, when the infected could be heard but not seen. They then poured onto the concrete, screaming and moaning as they looked for the source of the noise. Bullets came from the three of them up on the building's walkway, covering the two in the store. Ellis was seen carrying the cola, while Nick was spraying bullets from his AK. A hysterical laughing was heard, and the disfigured body of a Jockey quickly threw itself on Ellis.

"Get it off me!" He screamed.

Rochelle shot the thing humping Ellis' back, right before Harley could. She hastily reloaded the rifle, shooting at a spitter who was climbing the fence. Ellis picked up the cola once more and followed Nick's cover fire, making it up to the stairs and passing the cola off to Coach. Coach threw it to Rochelle who put it into the slot Whitaker opened. They suddenly watched as a missile looking object shot at the tanker in the way of the mall. An explosion like no other rocked the ground, throwing Ellis onto the ground.

"Thats French for 'Get the Fuck out'" Nick screamed.

We sprinted down to Ellis, whom Coach quickly pulled up. Ellis was slightly slower and winced due to his injuries. Apparently the sonic boom disinterested the infected, as the route to the safe room was barren. The sight obviously disappointed Harley's companions. CEDA tents floated against the harsh heat, completely void of any workers. Some of the infected laying on the ground were in biohazard suits, while others still had IV lines dragging behind them.

"This doesn't look too promising." Nick cursed, kicking at a large can of oxygen.

"Let's just get to the safe room and plan things out, okay?" Coach said in a grim voice.

They trudged into the depressing sight, trying to rifle through the tents to find anything of use. No one had seemed to come through here after the evac center was overrun, by the obvious stockpiles of medical supplies. The others were ripping open their first aid kits and stuffing them to the brink with everything. Needles, IV drips, various medications, and Nick even found a pack of cigarettes in the mess of things. Ironic. Harley put a bottle of Vicodin (Something she planned on using NOT for pain), a few sterilized needles, bottles of liquids that looked important, and numerous rolls of gauze and stitching thread. When she had a med kit stuffed to the brim, she was satisfied. She was the last to reach the safe room door.

"Well shit, what do we do now?" Nick exclaimed, hastily reaching for a cigarette.

"Let's just see if they maybe moved indoors." Rochelle said optimistically.

Harley laughed bitterly, sitting down in the darkest corner of the room. She moved a couple blankets strewn around the room under her butt so it wouldn't ache later. They all seemed to do the same, relaxing on the floor. Something as simple as relaxing was a delicacy for them. Harley idly watched the cherry of Nick's cigarette as it fluttered in-between his lips, ash flying off in the mid day wind.

"You want one?" Nick's raspy voice pulled Harley out of her stupor.

"That would be nice." She responded, getting up and moving her blankets next to the safe room door.

Nick handed a cigarette to her and a matchstick, which she lit on the safe room door. The smell of tobacco filled her lungs, and she inhaled deeply. She hadn't had a good cigarette in a long time. It brought her back to her college, where she tended the bar for some extra spending money. It was a dive bar to say the least, filled with the mix of sleazy old men looking to pick at college co-eds. The bar always smelled like a mix of cheap booze and cigarette smoke, with the occasional wisp of weed. Technically people weren't allowed to smoke inside due to fire marshall laws, but both Harley and her boss overlooked it.

"You look to be enjoying that." Nick's smoky laugh once again yanked her from the memories.

"Yeah, lotta memories." She laughed, a blush crawling up her cheeks.

"Did you smoke before?" He seemed slightly interested, not like the fake conversation last night.

"Yeah, I worked as a bartender during college. Basically lived off of them." Harley laughed.

"They definitely make the stress go down, damn cancer sticks." Nick agreed.

Rochelle seemed to have dozed off into sleep, while Coach was studying a map and Ellis reading a torn up comic book someone had left. Harley turned her attention to the childish car mechanic, surprised he was so immature. They were basically the same age, yet Harley could never see him doing the things she did. He was too, innocent. Too young at heart to be in the real world. Surprising he kept such an optimistic mindset during this whole thing.

"Where does the map tell us to go?" Nick asked Coach.

"The closest one is straight in the heart of New Orleans."

"Well how the hell are we supposed to get there?" Nick sputtered.

"We'll have to find a car or somethin'." Ellis got up, studying the map too.

"Good luck finding a gased up, ready to go machine." Harley snorted, not even half done with her cigarette.

"God damn, that smell is making me sick." Rochelle complained, rubbing her temples.

"I'll go outside. Be right back." Harley grabbed her rifle and threw it over her shoulder. Would do good to shoot some zombies to blow off steam.

Nick followed her outside, sitting down on the hard concrete. She sat on the other side of the door, her gun propped up on her lap, just in case. There was no infected out, they had killed all of the ones in the vicinity. For now, at least.

"Sure miss smoke breaks." Nick whistled to no one in particular.

"You know what I miss?" Harley responded.

"No, thats kind of a stupid question." Nick snorted, sarcasm dripping in his voice.

"You didn't let me finish. I miss fucking alcohol." Harley could almost taste the sweet nectar of booze.

"Don't even fucking remind me." Nick growled, not at her, but at the situation.

"Hopefully theres a liquor store in there." Harley jutted her chin towards the mall.

A lone infected walked into the parking lot, holding his head and puking out tar colored blood. Harley pushed her gun into her shoulder blade, eye down the scope. She shot the thing right in-between the eyes, watching in contempt as he fell onto the concrete, lifeless. Well, lifeless again. This time not moving.

"How'd you learn to shoot so well?" Nick once again broke the silence.

"Bar fights, had to know how to shoot someone if they raised hell." She answered honestly. Well, halfway honest.

"Hmm." He responded, stubbing his cigarette butt out.

He went inside, leaving her with her thoughts. She daydreamed for a while about the past, vague flashes of certain memories coming into her head. Her dad taking her to New York, times square, and the massive Christmas tree in the crowded streets. The smell of car exhaust, smog, and chill in the air. Or when she was really little and asked about her mom for the first time. That bitch. Harley hoped she rotted as one of the infected so she could personally crush her skull in. What selfish, heartless bitch would abandon her child, just to dump all the worry on the other partner.

"Hey, Harley." She heard the southern drawl of Ellis through the iron bars.

"Whats up?" Harley tried to shake the sudden anger she had for her mom, but she was still trembling with rage.

"We're just heading out into the mall to try and see if theres still an evac center." He paused for a little bit. "Everything okay?"

"No, but when is it out here?" She laughed bitterly.

"Well if and when we find a safe room, you can talk to me if yah need it." He opened the door for Harley.

She nodded, bristling with goosebumps as she walked past him. Weird. Her body still vibrated with distressed anger, and she was eager to blow some heads off. Harley picked up her katana and slung it over her back, along with her backpack and thigh pistols. Once everyone was ready, they headed out. The mall shocked her. Obviously some sort of panic ensured in here. Tables and display counters were flipped on their sides, clothes and those stupid mannequins strewn about. Infected were also randomly roaming around, the dim lighting obviously soothing to them.

Harley was the first to shoot, taking her hunting rifle and shooting it from her hip. The infected heard the commotion and began to throw themselves onto the survivors. It wasn't long before the cry of a special infected was heard, this time a menacing cry. Suddenly, a one armed beast carried Ellis off, slamming him into the concrete wall. Harley let out a panicked scream, shooting at the thing. It fell down after a couple shots, and Ellis laid on the ground, motionless.

"Oh shit." Harley exclaimed, noticing the other survivors were too far ahead.

She ran to Ellis, pushing her fingers onto his temple to check his pulse. Nothing. She started doing compressions, counting silently in her head. After about a minute, Ellis sputtered back to life. Harley stopped doing CPR and assessed the damage. Everything was fine but his shoulder, which jutted out at an odd angle.

"Ellis, I think your shoulder is out of place." Harley said softly, awkwardly. She was never good with being caring.

"Well shit, aint the first time." He breathed lightly, a smile crossing his lips. Genuine.

"Um guys? Please come over here." Harley called to the rest of the group.

Seeing Ellis on the ground, they took out in a sprint to get to him. Well, Coach and Rochelle. Nick was following from behind, his face blank. Coach obviously saw the dislocated shoulder and sighed, placing his hands in a delicate, almost practiced location. Harley watched as Ellis screwed up his face, the pain imminent. Harley decided to put her hand in his, at least some comfort could take his mind off of things. He looked at Harley and flushed slightly, a grin on his face.

Coach counted to three and then shoved Ellis in one direction, Ellis letting out a loud groan. Nick and Rochelle were immediately on guard, guns locked and loaded. But only a few infected took notice while Coach was helping Ellis up. Ellis looked slightly pained but other than that, he was relatively okay. Someone would have to look at his wounds better in the next safe area. He limped slightly as they went up the escalator to the next level. More infected were on this level, and took a while to clear out.

"What was that thing?" Harley asked to no one in particular.

"A charger. Nasty son of a bitch." Rochelle shook her head sympathetically.

They continued throughout the mall, shooting at anything that moved. A spitter split them up for a good minute, and a horde tried to pick them off. Didn't work too well, but one infected with grueling nails scratched deep holes into Harley. She bit the inside of her cheek and continued shooting, vying not to feel the pain until the adrenaline wore off. After the horde cleared and the green looking acid died down, they all regrouped. Everyone seemed to fare well except for Harley's scratch marks. It didn't hurt bad enough to make her complain, so they moved on. They decided to go through long "Staff only" corridors, finding there were less infected. That was, until they made it to a toy shop with glass in their way.

"I think we need to shoot that glass and get up that way." Ellis pointed with his good shoulder.

"That would cause an alarm to go off, dumb shit." Nick said even though Ellis was hurt.

"It's our only option, Nick. Don't be so hard on him." Rochelle put a hand on Nick's shoulder, which he quickly shrugged off.

"Well, better get going then. I'll find the shut off switch, it's gotta be somewhere." Harley said, walking up to the glass.

"Holy shit Harley, did you notice a huge chunk of your shoulder missing?" Ellis exclaimed.

"Yeah, I don't wanna slow us down. I'll take care of it." She held her chin up high.

With that, she took the butt of her gun and broke out the window. A screeching siren echoed throughout the seemingly empty mall, calling every infected in the building right to them. Harley took off upstairs, her katana in hand. The others couldn't keep up as they shielded Ellis. She felt a palm on her uninjured shoulder and was about to chop off the hand before they realized it was a human.

"I'll follow you. Just in case." Nick gritted, spraying gunfire at the infected behind them.

It would do nothing to argue, so she just continued to chop at the infected. A big door labeled "Security." was on this level, which seemed promising. She kicked the door open with her boot and found a strange contraption with security camera. Harley pressed at random buttons until the siren stopped.

"Thank Fuck." Nick whispered behind her, making her jump.

He was almost too close, and she could smell the warm scent of tobacco on his lips. All she could do is lean up against the table and slither out from behind him, the awkward encounter lost on Nick. They killed any remaining infected and made their way to the safe room, her shoulder now burning as blood oozed from it.

"Alright, now I'm forcing you to let me look at your shoulder." Rochelle commanded, pulling her medkit out.

"No, I got it. Trust me, I know how to fix this shit." Nick shouldered his way in front of Rochelle.

"You know how to dress wounds?" Harley snorted.

"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to." Nick growled slightly.

The others quickly found a corner to snooze in, as they'd probably have to spend the night so Harley could heal a bit. Nick pulled his white jacket off and revealed his blue undershirt, slightly less bloody than the jacket. Nick, without asking, pushed her shirt off of her shoulder. She winced slightly as the torn fabric skirted across her wound.

"I think you'll have to take your shirt off." Nick mumbled.

Harley rolled her eyes. "And have your pervy eyes on my tits? No thank you."

"Unless you want this happening" Nick brushed the fabric across the wound once more, making her whimper. "Take it off."

Harley cussed at him as she pulled the shirt off from her waist, the slight movement causing warm hot pain to shoot from her shoulder. She was shirtless now, hugging the fabric to her frontside so Nick couldn't get a look. He then brushed her bra strap to the side, which made her blush. He then pushed her hair to the other shoulder, his light touch causing her to arch her spine.

"Well you might just need stitches, fuck." Nick groaned, his touch lingering over the wound.

"Just… Just clean it and then stitch it. I can handle it." Harley said through her teeth.

"This'll sting." He muttered, wetting a piece of gauze with hydrogen peroxide. He pressed it to the wound softly, brushing over every open part of the skin. She let out a thick exhale, the pain stinging. Nick laughed slightly, as if getting a sadistic high from her.

"God damn." He muttered as she started shaking from the pain. She felt the peroxide bubbling against her wound, cleaning it.

"You doing okay?" He asked after a while.

"Just peachy, Nick." Harley spat.

"Let me see if I can find anything for pain." Nick rifled through his med kit.

"No, go into my bag. I-I have Vicodin." She knew Nick would want some too. She was okay with that.

He raised an eyebrow and got into her kit, palming the orange container filled with pills. He also brought a water bottle over to her side, dropping the pills into her palm. She threw them back with the stale water. The pain still was there, but her head became foggy. Surprisingly, Nick didn't take any.

"Didn't you want some?" Her voice became listless.

"I don't fuck around with pills, Harley. Not anymore." His voice was sincere.

She felt nothing as Nick cleaned her wounds deeply, only letting out a brief whimper when the needle first punctured her raw skin. After that, the meds fully kicked in and she wasn't functioning at all. A dopey, pill induced smile pierced her face as Nick finished up and began to tape thick gauze to her stitches. His soft, gentle touch was like a caress to her wounds. His hands lingered a second longer, almost giving her his touch to sooth her. But as soon as he touched her, his hands were gone. The drugs were making her want that touch more.

"I think you're set for the night. We'll redress them tomorrow morning." He stood to get up.

Harley tried to pull her shirt on, but her hands weren't responding to her brain. Nick laughed at her, not a condescending one, but one that was poking fun at her. He took the shirt into his hands and studied it.

"Pink Floyd, huh?" He grinned.

"Yeah, now can you put it on me?" Harley asked.

He shook his head, a crooked grin on his face. He pulled the shirt on by holding her arms up. She caught him looking at her lacy black bra, taking in the sight. She pretended not to see it as he respectfully pulled her shirt on. Her head spun and the lights were reflecting rainbows, but she kept her hands from running through his thick hair.

"Well, I'm going to go take a nap now." Nick trailed off awkwardly.

"Lay-lay with me." Harley couldn't stop that from coming out of her mouth, and her face turned blood red.

Nick furrowed his brows, a unmistakable struggle in his brain.

"Im sorry- I shouldn't of" Harley trailed off, turning to hide her face.

"No it's okay." Nick sat down with her.

They were leaned against the wall, in the closest corner to the door they came from. They sat there awkwardly before Harley submitted to the drug induced haze and rested her head on his shoulder. It was much more comfortable than laying on the concrete floor.

"Thank you." Harley muttered before she dozed off into a comfortable druggie sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for the late update. Dealing with senior project and AP classes. More reviews= more chapters.**

 **Fudge**

She didn't know if it was minutes or hours before she woke up, noticing Nick was absent from her side. Acting as if she didn't remember her request. He was staring out the other door, only the lit end of his cigarette was illuminating the saferoom, all the other lights were turned off. She steadied herself before getting up, walking over to his form.

"Hey." She said softly, not wanting to wake anyone.

He turned to her, smiling softly as a response. Wordlessly, he plucked a cigarette from his jacket pocket and gave it to her. He lit her cigarette with his and handed it to her. It felt nice as she took a puff, the burning sensation familiar. They wordlessly smoked, no awkwardness between them. It felt good to feel company in where she didn't have to talk all the time.

"Really sucks this shit went to hell." Nick sighed bitterly.

"I'd agree." Harley laughed, the first genuine laugh in a while.

"I'm sorry about your shoulder, looks like it hurts." Great, he was making small talk.

"Why are you making really bad small talk?" Harley snorted, flicking her cigarette ash outside.

"Isn't that what we're supposed to do?" God, she hated when people answered questions with another question.

"Well since you know so much about me, why dont you tell me about you?" Harley suggested.

Nick let out a bitter laugh. "You wouldn't want to know."

"Try me." Harley stuck her chin out, the after effects of the medicine making her bold.

"I con people for a living." He sat down on the ground, motioning her to follow.

"I assumed as much." Harley nodded.

"Lived in Vegas for most of my life, started learning how to play cards at the age of 12. Brought in some of the bill money for my Ma." He let out a chuckle. "I remember hustling most of the big casinos out there. You name it, i've won money there. Not a lot, but enough. People caught on and either wanted a cut or wanted my head." He ran his hands through his hair, almost as if the memories were painful.

"How'd you learn how to con?" Harley asked, stumping her butt out.

"A conman never tells, sweetheart." He smirked.

"Don't call me that." Harley muttered darkly.

"You didn't really give me much to work with, either." Nick bit out.

"Really wanna know more about my past?" Harley shook her head softly.

"Well yeah, if we're working to save each others lives id want to know if your a serial killer or not."

Harley took a big inhale. "Well, when I was about 16, I met this girl named Peyton. She was the life of every party, everyone from my high school loved her. She somehow chose to be my friend, the wallflower. She took me to one of the most popular guys house, and I tried literally everything. Pot, Alcohol, Cocaine, Molly. You name it. I got hooked on Coke, and right into college I was partying almost every night. Still got good marks, just wasn't fully there."

"That doesn't seem too bad." Nick commented.

"I'm not finished. Peyton joined me in going to university, and we were dorm mates. One night she brings in a sleazy dirt bag who smelled like gasoline and shit combined. Thats the first night I tried heroin. Never looked back. When the shit hit the fan, I was stuck in a safe room with withdrawals for a long time."

"How could you have done that to yourself?" Nick asked, no judgement in his voice.

"I was lost. Completely following Peyton just to feel wanted." Harley mumbled.

Suddenly, Nick had grasped her wrists and flicked them over, so that the insides of her arms were in the light of the hallway. He saw the marks, permanent scars and signs of veins collapsing. Harley could see the etched marks over his brows as he lightly traced each track mark with his thumb, brushing over it lightly.

"I think you're worth so much more than needles. I can't believe I let you take those pills." He shook his head.

"I needed those though. I wasn't looking to get high, I was looking to stop the pain from my shoulder." Harley groaned.

"You're an addict, Harley. I'm too fond of finding friends dead with a needle in their arm." Nick mumbled, so quiet she could barely hear him.

"I can't really be an addict out here. Not that i'd want to be, anyways." Harley looked at her scarred arms, all the way down to her scratched wrists. Not that Nick would see them.

"Are you an alcoholic?" He asked.

"No. I stopped drinking for a while since coke was all I needed. Never really was fond of being drunk."

"Oh, but shooting up was perfectly acceptable?" Nick scowled.

"Hey, I trusted you to not judge me." Harley could feel anger bubbling up.

"You don't trust anyone out here but yourself." And with that, Nick went to his sleeping bag.

For the first time, Harley felt loneliness creep into her bones. She snuggled up in her sleeping bag and tried to shake it off.

She woke up last in the group, but everyone seemed hesitant to get a move on. Almost as if resting seemed like the better option. She stretched, letting out a moan of pleasure as she cracked her back and stretched her arms out. Her shoulder complained, but it wasn't as painful as yesterday. She went to go into her medkit and fish out a pill, but she found her pill bottle was gone. She eyed Nick, who smiled crookedly and shook his head. God dammit Nick. Ellis was preparing some sort of meal for everyone to eat, while Rochelle and Coach pondered over a crinkled map. Nick was shuffling cards around idly.

Harley finally got up and put on her sweatshirt, as it was quite chilly out. The AC probably kicked in last night, if it was even still running. She went over to the ammo pile and picked over the rifle rounds, shoving as much as her bag could fit in. She then decided to walk over to Ellis and talk to him. Something she never would have done when She first met them. Strange to think she could actually stomach the group now.

"Hey, Har." Ellis tipped his hat.

"How's the shoulder?" Harley nodded to his now in place bone.

"It's sore. I should ask the same thing."

"Shit! Thanks for reminding me. I need to redress it." Harley got up to go get her medkit, but Ellis stopped her.

"Don't worry about it, I'll fix you all up."

She took off her jacket and pondered if she needed to take off her shirt, But Ellis just moved the loose sleeve over her shoulder. He pulled the bandages and gauze off fast but not painfully, until the wound hit oxygen. She hissed through her lips at the sudden pain. It was gone as fast as it started, but round 2 was about to start. Ellis was wetting a cotton pad with antiseptic. She found the closest thing to grab onto, which was Ellis' kneecaps, and dug into.

"Got the grip of Coach over here!" He laughed.

She noticed she was sitting in-between Ellis' lap, and could feel his crotch on her back. She slowly wriggled away to keep it from being awkward, but Ellis just pulled her back in so he could pepper the wound with antiseptic. She gripped onto his kneecaps harder as Harley bit her lip, drawing blood. The wound stung with a fever, and She could hardly feel Ellis wrapping her back up as the pain was so intense.

Instead, she concerned herself with looking at Nick. He had a deep scowl set on his face, staring right at the mechanic as he worked. Harley caught his attention and his scowl disappeared, almost as if he didn't want Harley to see. The stinging turned into a residual burning as she sighed in relief.

"We all ready to go?" Coach asked.

Everyone nodded, some more enthusiastic than others. Harley wouldn't of minded lazing around the safe room for a while. They quickly ate their meal, and got equipped to fight whatever was out there. Coach led the way as they filed out of the door, guns ready. Ellis had found an automatic shotgun to replace his sawed off one, and kept that thing in his grip like it was his child.

"Thats Jimmy Gibb's Jr. stock car!" Ellis exclaimed as they walked across a thin walkway, showing the whole mall.

"Think there's any gas in it?" Rochelle asked.

"Probably not, it's more of a scenic thing if anything. But i'm sure we'll find gasoline out here!" Ellis chirped, pressing the elevator button with his thumb.

The wait took longer than expected as a lone Smoker tried to grab onto Nick. Coach quickly shoved the tongue off of him and shot one bullet into the infected, a thick cloud of green smoke the only reminder of the now dead infected. Harley was the first to get into the elevator, which was relatively clean compared to the bloody and dusty mall. Apparently they were just starting a renovation, and random power tools were still thrown about. They all got into the elevator, a calm silence washing over them. Try and find some gas, and get the hell out. Drive to New Orleans and hopefully find some other people.

"Y'all ready for this?" Ellis was the one to break the silence.

Coach nodded, followed by Rochelle. Nick and Harley stayed quiet. Harley was looking out the glass to the first floor, noticing the swarms of infected. She gulped, the first time in a while nervousness crept over her. She shook it away quickly. Harley actually felt safe with these people, who were still basically strangers. Sure, she was stubborn and mean as a whip, but maybe leaning on people to help her was… good.

The elevator opened, alerting the nearest horde. Harley backed up as Coach and Ellis stayed at the front, spraying the horde with bullets. They mowed down the horde effectively, but caught the attention of basically all the other infected in the mall. They all moved out of the elevator, ready to find some gas. Harley split from the group first, sprinting up a flight of stars to examine the floor. She found two full to the brim gas cans, which were thrown over the balcony to a waiting Ellis.

Something caught her eye, though. It was a seemingly in tact clothing store. People weren't so occupied with getting clothing for the incoming doom, so most clothing stores and boutiques were left untouched. She walked in, using her flashlight as the lights had been shot out. No infected, which was surprising. She picked out a long sleeved navy shirt which was a thin, cotton material. This would work if the weather was nasty under her jacket. She then pulled her shirt over and off her body, her shoulder complaining. Harley grabbed the first shirt she could find, which was a basic deep purple V neck.

"Harley, you up here?" She heard Nick calling.

She hastily pulled her new shirt on, while undoing her boots. She had to find something more suited to hot conditions, as her feet were starting to blister.

"Yeah, I found some clothes." Harley responded after a while.

Nick flashed his light in right as she was shimmying out of her leggings, before quickly turning away. Harley screamed, trying to cover her bare ass from the man. Nick laughed before walking off, obviously finding more gas. Her whole face was scarlet red, and she struggled to pull on a pair of ripped jeans. Harley also found a pair of flip flops that bended and could be stored in her backpack. She kept her olive green jacket, a permeant item that reminded her of home.

After changing, she felt slightly cleaner. As she came out to the flight of stairs, she heard a gurgle. An abnormal gurgle, like someone was right about to puke. Harley turned as a boomer was waddling out of the clothing store. She didn't have time to pull her hunting rifle off her back, and her Katana would cover her in the putrid vomit. A bullet whizzed past her head, starling her. The boomer exploded, covering the once clean pressed clothes in vomit and gore.

"Thanks." She turned around to Rochelle, who nodded.

Harley went up the next flight of stairs, examining the dust and construction tools. As she was picking up a container of gas, She felt a rumble under her feet. However faint it was, she could tell a Tank was somewhere close. Not close enough to hurt her, but the others? She grabbed the other container under her shoulder and hobbled down to the stairs, and watched in horror as the Tank was ripping a chunk of linoleum and concrete out of the ground. She let out a cry as it was thrown straight at Nick, which narrowly missed him head on. Instead of hitting him full force, the corner of the concrete hit him. He went down immediately. The others were too busy fighting the thing to notice Nick struggling to get up.

Harley sprinted as if her life depended on it. Blood rushed to her eyes, her vision turning red. She threw the gas canisters by the car, sliding like a softball player to get to Nick. Blood puddled from the corner of his mouth and nose, and a large gash oozed fresh blood. He stared blankly out into space, but she could see the rise and fall of his chest. He was alive, barely. Harley's hands were shaking as she ripped off part of his blue undershirt, wrapping it around the wound to stop the bleeding temporarily. Once Ellis gave us the signal the gas tank was filled. The Tank went down, but a wave of common infected were on the way. Harley let out a shrill whistle, calling out to the others. Coach was the first to see Nick, and rushed over and picked him up. They all hurried to the car, Ellis taking the wheel.

"Brace yourself, guys." He grunted as the car roared to life, tires screeching as they blew through a window to the outside world.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys. So the** **next few chapters are where themes become much more mature (Harley's past includes drug use) and descriptive sex scenes as well. So you've been warned.**

 **Fudge**

Harley was in the backseat with Nick's head on her lap, Rochelle on the other side. They worked fast to clean out the wound of concrete and bacteria. Nick was still alive, but unconscious. Probably better that way, since the gash obviously needed stitching. Harley had no clue how to do that, so she let Rochelle take over. Rochelle was pretty good at it, only stopping a couple times to look away from the gore. Harley found herself running her hands through his thick black hair, trying to comfort him in any way.

The bleeding dried up as Rochelle finished, and Harley wrapped a thick dressing around it. They were safe, at least for a while. That was when everyone sighed collectively. Ellis rolled down the windows to let cool air wash over them, while Coach tinkered with the radio. Not like any radios would be broadcasting. But luckily, there was a CD in the slot, which played a band Harley wasn't familiar with. Coach said they were named "Sublime".

"Why's my head hurting, princess?" Nick groggily mumbled.

Harley gasped, looking down into his bluish green eyes. They shined with tears, which were wiped away by her careful thumbs.

"I liked your tattoo, by the way." Nick laughed, his voice raspy.

Harley rolled her eyes, a grin coming up on her lips. He was safe, thank god. Harley didn't know if she could take losing the person she was closest to out of the group. Which was surprising seeing the rough start they got off too. Yeah, he was a dick. But he also had a caring side to him that proved to her that he wasn't that bad of a guy.

"You have a tattoo?" Ellis asked.

"I have a couple." She corrected.

"I couldn't ever get into tattoos. Look like they hurt like hell, and were way too expensive." Rochelle added.

"My tattoos are really special to me. It's like a permeant reminder of good memories." Harley countered.

"Well you've seen my tattoo." Ellis wiggled his tribal cuff around his thick bicep, the arm of a strong mechanic. Harley could help but look down his strong hands before tearing her eyes away.

"That's a pussy tattoo." Harley then pulled up her shirt slightly, showing the side of her ribcage.

Flowers danced up her side, along with a hummingbird lapping at one of the open buds. Pastel carnations, deep red roses, and yellow tulips were perfectly arranged. The hummingbird was bright green with a red underbelly.

"That's really cool." Ellis had stopped the car to look at it.

Coach slapped the back of his head. "Get moving boy."

Ellis laughed and sped off, dodging cars and infected.

"I really liked your back one." Harley felt Nick's arm pull around her lower back, tracing the patterns softly.

"Get your hands off of me, pervert." Her tone was joking, poking fun at him.

"You both are dogs." Rochelle sounded disgusting, but she was smiling.

"What's on your back?" Ellis piped up.

"I have a couple. I have name, a mermaid, and bows on my upper thighs." She hesitated on the first one.

"Who's name? Please don't tell me it was some sleazy guy." Nick pressed.

"Uhmm…." Harley trailed off, obviously very uncomfortable.

"We've already questioned her enough, don't you think?" Coach snapped.

The rest of the trip was relatively quiet, only a few conversations coming up. Commenting on the weather, some past memories. Anything to get their minds off of things. The highway quickly turned to a dirt road, and fields of cotton took over. No buildings, no infected. Just a dirt road and some good music. Ellis pulled off when they found a barn, a home right behind it. This would do for the night. The sun was just beginning to skirt below the earth, deep orange lighting the twilight.

"Can you walk?" She asked Nick.

"I'll manage, cupcake." He got out after her. He was wobbling but could still function.

He started to pull out a cigarette, but Rochelle cleared her throat. "You smoke those, you go out to the barn."

"Okay, mom." Nick lulled, pushing her side playfully.

They carefully assessed the house. Harley went into the master bedroom, gasping at the sight. Two lovers were hanging in the closet, their disintegrating hands intertwined. They had killed themselves when shit went to hell. She shook her head at the somber sight. Ellis trudged up the stairs, coming up behind her and startling her.

"Shit." He whispered.

"What should we do?" Harley's voice was a whisper.

"I think we should give them a proper burial." Ellis hastily went downstairs, telling the others.

"HOLY SHIT YES!" Nick exclaimed loudly. "THERES FUCKING BOOZE."

Harley grinned, running down the stairs to the kitchen.

Nick opened the full refrigerator, which surprisingly was still cold. Six packs of beer and a couple bottles of hard liquor were stored, as well as tantalizing meat and cheeses. She was practically salivating.

"We're gonna go out in the back and help Ellis." Coach walked by, his gun in his hands. "y'all should probably come out."

Nick was rifling through the kitchen, and produced a package of red solo cups. He poured a whiskey on the rocks for both of them. He eyed her carefully as she took a drink. She contorted her face into a sneer and flipped him off. Nick rolled his eyes and brought out two six packs for the others. They walked out, a perfect view of the sunset in the background. They sat on the wooden porch, watching the others. Coach and Ellis were digging two deep holes, while Rochelle sat on a rocking swing tied to two towering trees. Nick obviously could strain his head, so he stayed put.

"This is… Nice." Harley muttered, the whiskey numbing her tongue slightly.

"I'd agree." Nick brought his cup to hers in a silent 'cheers'.

"I can't remember the last time i've seen a sunset this clear before." Harley sighed at the pretty sunset.

"Why's that?" Nick asked after taking a swig of his drink.

"Toronto was a big city. Light pollution and the buildings by my apartment complex made it pretty hard to see a good one."

"Vegas was practically the same." Nick responded.

She felt Nicks arm behind her back, but this time she didn't bat it away. It felt good to be in his arms. Did she have feelings for him? Not really. But the comfort of human touch calmed her. Ellis brought out the two bodies, which smelled awful. Their skin basically turned into dust as he threw them carefully into the holes. Harley tried to focus on the sun, which dipped halfway between the horizon and the sky. Deep purples, reds and oranges danced across the sky.

Coach grabbed a beer and popped the lid off on the deck, handing an opened one to Rochelle. Ellis went to go wash himself off.

"Guys?" Ellis came out after a little bit.

All eyes turned to him. "There's only four bedrooms. Someones gotta bunk up together."

"Well why don't Rochelle and Harley take a bedroom?" Coach suggested.

"No, I'll stay with Harley." Nick piped up.

Harley knitted her brows and looked at Nick. "Why?"

"Well we know each other the best. Wouldn't be weird or anything."

"Y'all better not be bumping uglies up there after we go to bed." Coach growled, trying to sound menacing.

They all laughed, and Nick went into the kitchen to refill his and Harley's whiskey. Ellis was searching around the large backyard for wood to start a bonfire. After he set up a decent campfire, they dragged lawn chairs to surround it. Harley brought her gun out just in case an infected roamed by and was attracted to the fire.

Ellis was humming a rock song, while Rochelle took off her shoes and warmed her feet on the rocks surrounding the fire. Once the sun had dipped below the Earth, a chill came into the air. Harley had pulled her sweatshirt on, but was still shaking from the cold. Nick got up out of his seat and wrapped his (what once was white) jacket around her shoulders. She gave a silent 'thanks' and threw back her third solo cup of whisky. Her body was tingling and she found herself laughing at Ellis' stupid jokes.

"Looks like someone's shit faced." Coach joked, tipping his beer in her direction.

"I am" Harley hiccuped "Not drunk at all."

Everyone let out a collective laugh at Harley. She blushed deep red. "Fuck you guys!"

The fire slowly went out, and one by one everyone started to retire. Coach went first, followed by Rochelle and then finally Ellis. Harley and Nick were out there alone now. The fire was nothing but deep red embers. Harley got up, leaving Nick alone in the darkness.

"Thanks for the jacket." Harley handed it back to him.

He just grunted in response. Harley walked back into the house, finding the electricity and water were still on. Seemed like this house had a well and some sort of generator. She walked up to the only unclaimed bedroom, which was a homey looking room with a Queen bed in the middle. She peeled off her clothes, which already were speckled with blood and guts. Harley turned on the shower, waiting a few minutes until the mirror in the room was steamed up to get in. The burning hot water surprised her, and she let out a yelp before turning the knob down.

The water felt so luxurious on her skin, and she spent a good five minutes just standing in it. Then, she washed her body with a bar of soap, and lathered her hair up with shampoo. It was knotty and disgusting, so she had to wash it twice. Harley took the razor which was hanging from the wall, and shaved her body bare. It felt good to get the grime and gunk off of her.

She heard the door in the room close, as Nick obviously was ready to get clean. She turned the shower off and covered herself in a towel, another one wrapped around her head. Harley padded from linoleum to spongey carpet. Her clothes were in her arms, which surprised Nick. He had taken his shirt off, leaving him only in his dress pants. He rifled through the closet, finding a black shirt and jeans that were his size. He wordlessly looked Harley up and down.

"I don't appreciate you eye fucking me, Suit." Harley teased, the alcohol making her bold.

"You are such a dork when you're drunk." He flicked my shoulder before going into the bathroom.

She got dressed in no hurry. Her hair was still up when she knocked on the bathroom door, needing a comb or brush.

"I need a comb for my hair." She called as loud as she could, but not yelling.

"Okay, just come in then?" Nick sounded confused.

She walked in, forcing her eyes not to look at the naked man in the shower. She got what she needed in a rush, her eyes solely fixed on the ground. They skirted to Nick, his naked body hidden behind a thick cloud of steam. Harley shook her head, mentally chastising herself. Nick is a friend. She repeated. You're just drunk.

She combed her dirty blonde hair, the sun bringing out the white blonde highlights in it. Her hair was fully tangle free, and reached the bottom of her breasts. She never kept her hair this long, but it's not like she could cut it. At least, not well. Her hair was still damp, so she dried it with her towel. Nick turned the shower off and she heard the toilet flush, before he came out in nothing but a towel draped around his hips.

"Oh cmon, put some clothes on." She groaned, keeping eye contact with him.

"I'm not sleeping in jeans." Nick protested.

Harley rolled her eyes. The house was suddenly as cold as outdoors, and Harley was quickly shivering. She covered herself in the plush comforter and sheets, but that didn't stop her from shivering even more. Harley was used to the cold, living in Canada during the winter time was basically asking for frostbite. But since being in Georgia, she hadn't been cold in a while. Nick got into bed as well, but he wasn't cold.

"Y'know, I can keep you warm." Harley noticed the slur in Nick's voice.

"You're drunk." Harley tried to sound disgusted.

"So are you." Nick sighed.

"I'm not going to cuddle with you, Nick." Harley turned to face him.

His features were relaxed for the first time, not having to worry about imminent death. It was a sweet distraction, a fake safe haven. Harley noticed the stubble beginning to grow around his face, as well as how clear his eyes were. A color she could not describe, a grayish blue with no name. Before she could move away, his hand came up to caress her face.

"You look so much better when you aren't stressed." He muttered, trailing his hand down her face.

"Stop trying to get a piece of ass, Nick." Harley snorted.

"I'm not. I just think you should know you're worth more than you think." Nick sounded sincere, but knowing him, She knew it could be a ruse.

She sighed and rolled around to face the other direction, her eyes drooping with the impending sleep. Harley was still ice cold, and tried to cover up the best she could. Nick didn't even ask this time before wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing her into his heater like body. Harley didn't want to fight, as she wasn't shivering anymore.

"This doesn't mean I want you." Harley mumbled.

"Doesn't mean I want you either." Nick snapped.

That was the last thing she heard before she drifted into a peaceful sleep.

 _Harley was sitting in her dorm room, studying her psych notes. She was finally finding a path she wanted to go down, and changed her major from Gen. Ed to Psychology. Her dorm mate was absent, Peyton was always out partying on Friday Nights. Harley didn't worry, she knew her best friend was smart and knew her limits. That didn't mean she was slightly concerned when Peyton didn't come back for a week at a time, but she always returned._

 _Harley heard a commotion outside, before a key slipped into the door and Peyton stumbled in. She had a man behind her, someone who instantly sketched Harley out. He was a scrawny, tall skater boy with shaggy hair and a beanie. He had acne, as well as other scars she had no explanation for._

 _"_ _Hey, you're home early." Harley said over her notes._

 _"_ _Yeah, needed somewhere more private." She turned to look at the man, who began to unpack a backpack._

 _"_ _You aren't serious." Harley raised an eyebrow._

 _"_ _No, we aren't fucking Harley." Peyton laughed. "We're shooting up."_

 _Harley wasn't surprised. It wasn't the first time she had to babysit a tweaking Peyton. Didn't make her think any less of her friend, it was just disappointing that such a beautiful girl sold her life to drugs. They sat on the floor, playing music softly and pulling out their materials. Harley didn't realize that she was watching until Peyton caught her eye._

 _"_ _C'mon Harley. Try it." Peyton begged._

 _"_ _You know i'm not like that." Harley whined._

 _"_ _One time won't kill you, unless you get hooked." The guy said._

 _He tied a rubber band around his upper arm, pulling out a needle and a sticky, brown substance. It looked disgusting. He mixed the drug with a little water in a metal spoon, putting a lighter under it. One it started bubbling, he pulled it through the needle and inserted it into his arm. Harley cringed a little, but the pleasure in his eyes interested her. He seemed to be in a different realm completely, and he quickly laid on the floor._

 _"_ _You can do this." Peyton assured her._

 _Fuck it. Harley sat down on the floor, watching as Peyton did everything for her. She tied the arm thing around her, heated up the drug and inserted it into her. Her eyes glazed over, the rush so intense. Her vision shook, then spun. Her body was gone. But instead of remembering her first trip, she saw the eyes of Nick._

 _He was running from a tank, his eyes wide with fear. He had no gun, and his wound on his head was bleeding profusely. He tripped over a body and went down, the Tank barreling towards him._

 _ **Hope you**_ _ **enjoyed. I'm having a lot of fun writing this story. Make sure to comment or PM me.**_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N So this chapter contains very graphic sex. So don't get pissed if it makes you uncomfortable.**

 **Fudge**

She woke up with a loud whimper, sitting up in bed. Her head hurt, her whole body ached for heroin. To make the pain go away. Instead, she smelled a familiar smell. Like a skunk mixed with grass and leaves. She got up slowly, trying to not wake up Nick. Harley basically had to pry his arms off of her, and padded to the drawer where the smell came from. She opened it with a loud squeak, making Nick shift in his sleep.

A pipe was in a plastic bag, along with a shit ton of marijuana. She smiled, happy with smoking a little pot. A luxury she could afford to splurge in. She walked over to her bag, pulling out a lighter and situating herself by the open window. The moon made the cotton fields bright, showing no infected hiding. No one was awake, and Harley doubted anyone would wake up from the smell.

The second she flicked the flint with her thumb, Nick woke up. He was groggy at first, but Harley quickly hit the pipe before he could stop her. He got up, his face pure rage.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He bellowed, a whisper though.

"I found it. My head hurts." She said, like a scolded child.

"Give that to me right now." He growled.

"You're not my dad, Nick. Stop treating me like a child." Harley snapped, done with his shit.

"I never said I wanted to be your damn Dad. I care about you, okay?" Nick sounded defeated.

"Then you should realize my head hurts and I'm craving…." She turned away in shame.

Nick let out a sympathetic sigh and sunk down to the floor with her. He could see the pain and need in her eyes. He lightly took the pipe away from her, as well as the lighter. Harley widened her eyes as he took a puff, holding it in until only small whiffs of smoke blew through his nose. She cocked her head, asking a silent question.

"My head hurts too." Nick responded softly.

They sat there sharing the bowl, before loading another and another. Harley was used to the high of pot, but she hadn't smoked anything since the infection took over Savannah. It made her whole body tingle and feel… whole. As if all the worries of surviving and killing were gone. She was in a room with a handsome man, wait, what was she thinking? Nick was her friend, her closest ally in the group. But still, her head wandered.

"What are you thinking?" Nick asked.

"My past." She lied.

"What about it?" Shit. She came up with something.

"I just, had a nightmare. About this." She turned her wrists to the ceiling.

Nick once again let out a thick breath, smoking blowing out the window. He took hold of both her wrists, before lightly tracing each outline with his rough finger tips. It was quite soothing. Harley closed her eyes and focused on the sensation, something heightened by the pot.

"I need to sleep." She muttered, quietly.

They finished off the bowl of weed, before making their way to the bed. Without asking, he pulled her into his arms. She didn't question, instead pushing herself closer to warm herself. Harley could feel everything from her heartbeat to Nick's hard body. His breath was hot on her shoulder, and sent goosebumps up her neck.

"Goodnight, Harley." Nick whispered.

He pressed his lips to her shoulder, which startled her. She nearly jumped out of her own skin, and she tightened herself up. Her whole body was rigid with an unknown fear, and she tried to make space in-between herself and Nick. He released her, and she wriggled over to the other side of the bed. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was how soft his lips were.

 _The wind howled, snow slapping against her window. Harley was sitting in front of a wood burning fire, the smell of fire and smoke comforting her. She was a rustic log cabin, with modern amenities. A television was turned to the news, droning on about shootings and the presidential elections. Harley looked to see she was wearing a long sleeve shirt and jeans, her toes wriggling in wool socks._

 _"_ _Cold, baby?" The familiar deep voice purred behind her._

 _Nick was also in a long sleeved shirt, which highlighted his muscular features. His sweatpants hung low on his toned hips, showing a trail of black hair down to his pant line. He was holding two cups of what looked like hot chocolate._

 _"_ _Umm… Yes sweetheart." Harley couldn't control what she was saying._

 _"_ _Come sit on the couch with me, then." He handed her a cup of steaming cocoa, which she delicately took a sip of._

 _The overwhelming taste of chocolate slid across her tongue, and then the hot whiskey in it burned her throat._

 _"_ _You spiked it, didn't you." Harley snorted, setting it on the wooden coffee table._

 _"_ _You know me so well." His laugh was warm, at ease._

 _She settled into his side, feeling comfort as he wrapped his arms around her. He pulled a soft blanket over them, and changed the TV to a christmas movie. Harley sipped on her drink while absentminded watching the movie. She felt Nick's hand trailing down the small of her back to her butt, and the touch made her feel a stirring inside of her. Harley looked up into his sparkling eyes, a mischievous look on his face. Her hands wrapped around his now clean shaved face, something she would never of done. When is this? Where is this? Her subconscious screamed. Nick lowered his face to hers and swept his lips across hers, the touch accelerating her heartbeat._

 _"_ _Nick." She whispered, the name rolling across her mouth with ease._

 _His hands groped at her ass while his tongue lapped at her mouth, the kiss deepening. He pushed her onto his lap, and Harley automatically straddled him. She felt his erection press into the apex of her thighs, which sent excitement coursing through her bloodstream. Harley ground her body into his hard cock, getting a growl from him. Suddenly, he pushed her on to the couch, dominating her. His hands flew to her shirt, which was on the floor in seconds._

 _"_ _Fuck." He groaned, taking in her braless tits._

 _He palmed the flesh of her breasts, her nipples tightening. She squirmed under his assault, begging him to drag his fingers down her body. He could sense her need, and sat up to rip her pants and underwear off. He also pulled off his clothing, leaving them both naked. His cock pressed into her navel, heightening her senses. His hands went to her pussy, gliding across the wet folds._

 _"_ _Oh.." Harley moaned, bucking her hips up._

 _He began to pump his fingers in her at a relentless rhythm, sending shooting waves of pleasure up Harley's body. Her need for him was at an all time high. Her hands grabbed ahold of his cock, rubbing up and down. His head flew back, a silent moan on his lips._

 _"_ _Please." She whispered._

 _"_ _Please what?" Nick asked with a heavy breath._

 _"_ _Fuck me." Harley begged._

 _Nick chuckled, pulling his fingers out of her and licking them. He wet his cock, and then teased the entrance of her pussy. He pushed the tip in and out, getting a frustrated growl from her. He did this until her whole body was tingling, and she grabbed the base of his dick and pushed it into her._

 _"_ _Oh fuck baby." He gasped, pushing all the way into her._

 _He started out slow, introducing his cock to her pussy. As her body released more wetness, his speed picked up. Her moans were obscene, Her hands flying to his hair. He flipped her over effortlessly, pulling her onto her knees. Nick rammed into Harley, grabbing her hair and lightly tugging. That sent pleasure down to her pussy._

 _"_ _Fuck, im gonna cum baby." Harley whispered, her face in the couch pillows._

 _Nick snaked a finger under her, playing with her clit. She mewled, grinding her ass into his dick. His thrusts became frantic, her ass clapping with the force. Harley's orgasm hit a peak, and she screamed as the pleasure became too much. Nick let out a grunt and came into her, thrusting deeply into her cervix. He collapsed on top of her._

"Harley?" She woke up to a gentle shaking.

Her eyes glazed for a moment, trying to remember where she was. Nick was trying to rouse her, but her head still was stuck in her dream. What did that mean? Why was it about Nick fucking her? Harley sat up in bed, the sun streaming through the blinds. It made the room humid, and made her forget about the chilly night. Nick had already gotten up and dressed, leaving Harley to dream about him.

"You were really squirmy last night." Nick sat on the side of the bed, patting her legs under the covers.

"Was i?" Harley tried to sound nonchalant.

"Yeah. Bad dream?" His voice sincere, yet at the same time, it sounded like he was saying it as a pleasantry.

"Not at all. Is everyone else up?" Harley could hear Ellis' loud laugh downstairs.

"Mhmm. Rochelle is cooking some breakfast with the shit ton of food here. Get dressed."

Nick walked out of the room, giving her space. When she sat up, her head pounded. Memories of last night's drunken and stoned adventures made her grin. She got up, admiring her now lithe body in the mirror. She wasn't fat before, but she was no where near as toned or endurance trained. She pulled on her clothes, and tied her dirty blonde hair up in a ratty bun. She padded over to the window, finding the pipe and weed untouched.

Harley hastily loaded more, greedily smoking everything. It definitely took the edge off of things, but the smell was probably wafting throughout the house. She heard stomping as someone came up the stairs. Nick flung the door open, catching Harley red handed.

"Uh…. Hi!" Harley awkwardly said.

"God dammit Harley." Nick laughed and shook his head.

"Im sorry Nick, my head just hurt." She whined, something she never did.

He laughed even louder. "Breakfast is ready. Coach wants to head out pretty soon."

Harley nodded, trying to walk to the door. Her foot caught on one of the uneven floorboards and she fell, slamming her face on the floor with a thud. Pain seared on her nose, and embarrassment flooded her face. She quickly hid that.

"Fuck!" She groaned, trying to get up but failing.

"I'll help you." Nick was on the verge of crying from laughing so hard.

"Don't touch me." Harley growled, slapping away his touch before getting up.

Nick watched her warily as she walked down the stairs and into the rustic kitchen. Smells of amazing food assaulted her nose, and Harley had to stop herself from drooling. Bacon, eggs, toast, even pancakes!

"Harley, I told you. If you smoke go to the barn." Rochelle sounded motherly.

"Oh please. I am not going out there in the middle of the night when its cold as fuck." Harley grumbled.

Rochelle handed her a plate and raised her eyebrow. Harley nodded her thanks and went over to the couch to eat, wanting silence. Instead, Ellis plopped right next to her and started ravenously eating. Harley nearly growled in frustration as she ate her food, mentally cringing every time Ellis burped or chewed loudly. He finished his meal and set the plate on the coffee table.

"How was last night?" Ellis nudged her side, suggestively raising his eyebrows.

"Oh shut up Ellis." She got up, fed up with his shit.

Coach had laid out a map, following the road we had taken. It seemed we were a couple days drive away from the heart of New Orleans. Harley had heard stories about Mardi Gras, a drunken rampage of people watching parades and throwing beads onto balconies. She decided a walk could ease her wary mind. She walked out the front door, taking her sniper rifle with her. Maybe she could climb onto the roof of the barn and find something to shoot.

The barn was rustic, and held no animals. Harley was sure they had ran off and died. Naturally of course, the infected didn't want anything to do with animals. She climbed a rusted ladder onto the top of the barn, a loft filled with soft hay and feed. She sat down, deciding to collect her thoughts. Her eyes wandered out of the broken window nearest her, into the long rows of cotton. She spotted movement. A lone infected wandered about 500 feet away, catching onto the smell of humans. Harley rested her gun on the window sill, aiming down the sights and knocking the head off the poor thing.

"Nice shot." She heard from behind her.

"Leave me alone." She growled.

Nick shrugged. "Someone's in a bad mood."

"Do you not understand what 'get the fuck out' means?" Harley was frustrated.

"I do, when you actually mean it." Nick pulled out two cigarettes and handed one to her.

They lit up, and Harley felt instantly at ease with each puff. It complemented her high well. They sat in silence, the sun finally off the horizon. She set her gun on one of the haystacks, ready to grab it if a zombie made its way in.

"You seem really pissed off." Nick said about halfway through his cigarette.

"Nice observation, jackass." She rolled her eyes.

"Jesus Christ, you weren't this mean since I met you!" His laugh was chalky.

"I just had a bad night's sleep, that's all." Her look was pointed right at him.

"If there was a man as attractive as me holding you, I'm not surprised."

Harley snorted, the nerve of the man somewhat calming her temper. He saw the smile and his lips twisted into a grin. Those lips she kissed last night with no hesitation. At least, in the dream.

"So you had a bad dream then." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"It wasn't bad, just really odd." Harley tried to keep it as vague as possible.

Nick raised his eyebrows, a silent question.

"It's… It's nothing." She ducked her eyes down.

Nick sighed. "There's literally nothing you could say that would surprise me at this point."

Harley shook her head. "Promise?"

"I don't make a promise I can't keep, cupcake."

"Well… I had a dream with you in it." Her lips puckered up.

"Oh, really?" His eyebrows waggled.

"Yeah. Exactly that. Why I'm in a pissy mood."

"Nick, Harley!" Coach boomed. "We're taking off, grab what you need."

Harley put out the butt of her cigarette, following Nick down the ladder. He went first, followed by her. Her foot, however, caught on the first rung of the ladder. She fell ungracefully, bracing for the full impact of the hard wood floor. Instead, she was met with two warm arms. She finally opened her eyes, finding her face to face with Nick. His nose was inches away from hers, lips parted slightly.

"You should be more careful, princess." He muttered.

Harley wriggled out of his hold, bolting upstairs to grab her backpack. She stuffed the soaps and razors into a plastic baggy, as well as the pipe she had found. Just in case. She lugged the bag over her shoulders, sheathing her katana in front of it. Her sniper rifle had been picked up by Nick, and was resting on the car. The sun was bright as hell, so she slipped on a pair of sunglasses she had stolen when the outbreak first started. They were Ray-Bands, some kind of expensive American brand.

"Y'all ready to visit N'Orleans?" Coach bellowed.

"So excited." Nick responded, sarcasm dripping in his voice.

Harley was silent, slipping into the backseat of the racecar. She was the tiniest out of the three in the back, so had to sit in-between Ellis and Nick. Coach insisted on driving, as he 'obviously' was the most experienced. Ellis was chattering out ears off about a friend named Keith, while Nick looked like he was about to kill him. Harley kept silent, feeling skin touch hers every time Ellis or Nick shifted. She was fine with Nick, but Ellis' skin was foreign to her. Made her uncomfortable.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the** **lack** **of Updates, I promise I'll update at least once a week from here on out.**

 **Thanks for your understanding- Fudge**

They stopped about 8 hours later, when the sun was starting to make it's decent. The air was chillier than the last, and they couldn't find a decent resting area. As Coach pulled the car into a dirt road, a barn appeared off to the side. Dilapidated, ugly and brown, the barn looked completely abandoned. Coach and Ellis got out first, the flashlights on their guns illuminating the dark barn. A few zombies were banging at the door, obviously trying to get at something. Ellis cocked his shotty and blasted the few infected, their blood spattering onto Harley. She groaned in disgust, trying to wipe as much off of her as possible. They pulled the barn doors open, a thick wooden door reinforced by metal. No zombie would be able to get in. There was a fire pit in the middle, with stalls insulted by hay bottoms. Some of the roof panels had fallen off, and showed the beginning stars coming out.

Harley threw her backpack into one of the stalls, the hay looking like heaven. She walked to the middle, seeing that Rochelle and Coach were setting up sleeping bags close to the fire pit, which Nick was setting up. Harley took hers and did the same, stretching out her sore muscles.

"Should one of us watch guard?" Ellis asked.

"I think the barn doors should hold, dear." Rochelle looked at Coach, as if he was the decision maker.

"We should have someone stay up just in case." Coach shook his head.

"I'll take up first shift, i'm really not that tired." Rochelle volunteered.

"Harley and I will watch second." Nick said, getting a grimace from Harley.

"We really only need one person up at a time." Ellis said.

"She likes my company, so shut it Ellis." He snapped, as the fire took ablaze.

Ellis said no more, instead making himself comfortable on his sleeping mat. Harley snuggled into the bag, the chilly night getting to her bones. Her eyes drooped as she fell into a light sleep.

"Har, wake up." She felt someone lightly shake her.

She was still tired, but not enough so that she would fall asleep on watch. Nick was hunched over her sleeping bag, his eyes red with tiredness. She sat up, the night's wind chilling her to the core. Her flimsy coat was doing nothing to stop the wind from getting into her bones.

"I have an idea, c'mon." Nick held his hand out.

Harley got up, holding her hands to her body to try and stop the shaking. Nick took his sleeping bag and zipped it together with hers, making one big sleeping bag. He then pulled it into one of the hay filled stalls, right where the sky was lighting the barn. Harley crawled into the bag, waiting for Nick to get in. He did, hesitantly, facing her.

"What color are your eyes?" Nick asked.

"Depends on the lighting. My dad said they were hazel, whatever that means." Harley commented.

"Regardless, they're.. Nice."

Harley smiled, a blush creeping onto her face. Nick wrapped his arms around her shaking body, pressing her face into his chest. It was firm, but like a furnace against her skin. She no longer felt the need to push him away, he was caring and gentle to her. She would really be shaken if Nick were to get injured or infected. Who knows if they were immune or just carriers.

"Can I ask you something?" Nick mumbled.

"You just did." Harley giggled, a line her dad used a lot.

"Did you have a boyfriend before you got stranded here?" His voice sounded off.

"No, was never really into the boys in my town." She left the part out about her being known as a druggie. No one wanted to shag that.

"That's a shame. Their loss." Nick looked back up into the sky.

"Why do you say that?"

Nick looked up into the star filled night. "You seem like a girl that guys would throw themselves at."

Harley snorted.

They were silent for a while, and Harley could feel herself dozing off. The heat and darkness made it hard to stay awake. Instead, she decided to study the group. Rochelle was off in the far corner, twitching in her sleep. Coach was close by, snoring and laying like a rock. Ellis was facing away from Harley, sleeping on his side. The fire had turned to embers, making the barn turn an eerie dark color.

"I can't stay awake." Harley mumbled against his chest.

"Then sleep, I'll stay up." Nick said.

Harley was too tired to argue. Instead, she cuddled up to Nick and fell into a peaceful slumber.

When she woke up, the sky was grey with heavy cloud cover. It threatened rain, one of Harley's least favorite weather patterns. She was raised in a town with snow up to the roofs, but rain was torture. That, and wind. Harley was the last one up, and the last to get packed up. They ate a meager breakfast of trail mix and water bottles, before taking the trek to the car. It was a much more mild day out, the scent of rain in the distance.

"I can't wait to get to N'Orleans!" Ellis chirped over the silence.

"Hopefully there's still a CEDA refuge up there." Rochelle agreed.

Harley shook her head. "CEDA isn't a place you want to be at."

"Why's that?" Nick asked as he took up the rear.

"They only take immune people, afraid the carriers would infect the workers who aren't immune. Or at least, that's what I've heard." Harley turned to him, waiting for him to catch up.

"It's the only option we've got." Coach sounded defeated.

The sky turned a dark grey, as the sun dipped below the clouds. Day quickly turned to night, and Harley found herself dozing off repeatedly. At one point, her head rested on Nick's shoulder. The car came across a bridge, unfortunately it was lifted.

"Well, shit." Coach cursed.

"Wait, see that up there?" Rochelle hopped out.

Harley pulled out her gun as a precaution, and got out of the car. A girl, hardly looking 18, was leaning on the bridge. She wore her brunette hair up in a ponytail, with a red jacket and jeans. She really was a stunner, Harley thought.

"Wow, thought we were the only survivors left!" The girl called out.

"What is a girl like you doin' up there alone?" Ellis stumbled over his words.

"Just lost a guy." She sighed. "Another one is hurt badly, so we're up here until he can move again."

"Could you lower the bridge for us? We have medical supplies." Rochelle asked.

"Sorry, can't. There's a generator on the other side, if you fill it with gas you'll be able to raise it. We can cover you from up here as well." She looked sympathetic.

"My name's Ellis, what's yours?" Ellis piped up.

She laughed, a girly and high pitched noise. "Zoey. Nice to meet you, Ellis."

Harley snorted as Ellis turned bright red. The grotto next to them was filled with infected, who heard the interaction. They threw themselves at the group, teeth bared and mouths filled with blood. Harley pushed them as far away as possible, before yanking her rifle out and shooting from the hip.

They were overwhelming, and some wore fancy suits and dresses covered in blood. Quite odd for an area like this. Harley had to push her back to a fellow survivor, who happened to be Ellis. They covered each other quite well, and she felt grateful for that.

A horrendous cackle was heard, something hysterical. Harley was instantly on guard, watching out for the hunched over special infected. A blur of red toned flesh flew past her eyes, as the Jockey flung itself at Coach. He bellowed in surprise, trying to throw the thing off of his shoulders. Harley was too far away and stuck in the middle of a horde to help. She cried out, getting Nick's attention. He ran to Coach and shoved the Jockey off, before landing a shot in the head.

"Holy shit! This is getting good!" Nick hollered.

The infected finally thinned out, leaving the survivors to regroup. Coach had some minor scratches on his face, but nothing life threatening. Someone would have to disinfect them when they got to a saferoom. Harley was breathing hard from the effort, and sweat beaded on the top of her forehead.A open door swung open, flittering in the breeze. Coach led the way as usual, walking through the convenient store. Nick swiped a pack of cigarettes, throwing another pack to Harley. She caught it with her free hand.

"Thanks, Nick!" Harley chirped.

He nodded, a unreadable gesture on his face. They continued to walk, shooting at anything that moved, until they came across a half finished apartment complex. The only way to get up was through a second story window, across a plank of wood. Ellis and Rochelle went first, followed by Nick and Harley. Coach went last, not far behind the group. An earsplitting crack made Harley whip her head back, watching as Coach fell two stories.

"Fuck!" Harley screamed, throwing her sniper down. She sat down on the window hole, ready to jump.

"Woah woah woah. You can't jump!" Nick snapped.

"Watch me." She huffed.

Her knees were slightly bent, ready for impact. She hopped off.

"HARLEY!" Nick growled.

She hit the ground gracefully, having to do a roll with all the force. Coach was on his backside, the air knocked out of him. A deep cut protruded from his side, as well as blood pooling out of his nose. That part worried her the most.

"Hey, how you doin', Coach?" Harley mumbled, assessing him.

"I could be better, darling." He laughed, turning into a cough.

Nick stomped out of the first floor door, Ellis and Rochelle following behind. It looked like he could kill someone, the way his face was beet red. He grabbed Harley by the shoulder, yanking her back into the building. She yelped, the pain shooting through her still hurt shoulder. She screamed profanities, leaving Rochelle to tend to Coach while Ellis kept watch. Nick slammed her against the wall, hard enough to shake her.

"What the fuck, Nick?" She screamed, her blood boiling.

"You just decide to jump out a fucking window without any of us? What in the fucking hell is wrong with you?" Nick yelled, spitting in her face.

She saw red. Harley shoved Nick with all her force, knocking him into some loose planks and paint cans. She stormed out, pulling her katana out of its leather sheath. It took her four months to save up for this baby. An infected was leaning over a car, black blood streaming out of its mouth. Harley walked up, noticing the infected had no lower jaw. She kicked it onto the car, blood smearing on the window. She then stabbed the infected in the chest, pinning it to the car like a shish kabob. Reaching for her side pistol, she shot point blank in the head.

"Harley, I think you need to cool down." A rough hand landed on her shoulder. She turned to find Ellis.

"I am calm." Harley spit, yanking her katana out of the body. She stomped on its forehead for good measure.

The rest of the team seemed to back off of her, wary that she would attack them. Harley stuck behind the group, shooting any lone infected. They walked up to a park, a gazebo shining in the center. It looked like a scene from a horror movie. The zombies were fitted in ratty tuxes and overpriced dresses, while a howling witch sat in the middle. Obviously that was the bride to be. Everyone crouched behind the thick bushes, trying to come up with a plan.

"Why can't we just shoot her?" Harley asked. Rochelle snorted.

"They're awfully powerful. Nails could rip you into shreds immediately, honey." She responded.

"Let's see if luck is in my favor then." Harley pulled her body upright, shrugging out of the grasp of Nick.

She laid on her stomach, reaching for her Sniper rifle. The four lines were aimed perfectly at the witches forehead. Harley couldn't hear the retching though. And right as she was letting the trigger go, acid shot at her. A searing pain, and then nothing. Blackness


	7. Chapter 7

**Once again, so sorry. Time caught up with me. Here you go.**

 **Fudgie**

Cold. Dampness. She could only hear voices, and her body throbbed. It was the worst pain imaginable, ten times worse than her wisdom teeth being removed. She felt sticky, and absolutely disgusting. Her eyes refused to open, though. Only voices.

"She's coming back to us now." Rochelle. Harley could tell her light, feminine voice from the others.

"Oh thank god." Nick said. Harley could vaguely remember being mad. She was in too much pain to be angry.

Her eyelids felt like super glue had been drying inside. She pried and pried, finally popping them open. A rush of light. She was staring at a ceiling dripping with water. She took in her surroundings. Nick was crouched next to her, grabbing her hand. Rochelle had paced away, murmuring to Ellis. Coach was asleep.

"What… What happened?" Harley tried to sit up.

"Don't move. You tried to fight a witch and got cockblocked by a spitter." Nick explained.

"After that?"

"You went unconscious, she tore your chest up pretty fucking bad." His laugh was bitter.

Harley tried to laugh, but searing pain shot through her abdomen. Instead, she relaxed her head on the ratty pillow underneath it. Instead of focusing on the pain, Harley counted all the water drips that pattered from the ceiling. 2,140 drops. Nick gave her a meager ration of pain meds. The drops were blurry, but she could still hear them. 6,609 drops later, the sky darkened from a fuzzy gray to midnight blue. Rochelle shut the lights off in the safe room.

"What time should we be out by?" Harley asked no one in particular.

No answer. She fell asleep shortly after.

The rain hadn't let up when she woke up. The medication made her drowsy, and she finally felt the pinching sensation of an IV in her arm. No wonder her pain was bearable. Rochelle was up making breakfast, the smell tantalizing. A gas powered stove, a godsend. Coach was up, his gashes healing quite well. Ellis and Nick were nowhere to be seen, which worried Harley.

"Where are they?" She croaked.

"They saw a pharmacy a couple blocks down, went to loot any sort of meds."

Harley rolled her eyes. That was one of the first places to be cleaned out. Druggies could horde all the pain meds they wanted, and off themselves with a massive overdose. At first, she thought it was a cowards way to go. Now, it didn't seem so bad. 10,535 drops later, Nick and Ellis returned.

They were completely soaked. Ellis still had the optimistic goofy grin, but Nick looked like hell. Ellis was rambling to Coach about how much supplies they had found, ripping open a new backpack. From what she could see, a medical grade first aid kit, numerous orange bottles, and even a bottle of Jack.

Nick was in the corner, stripping away his soaked clothing to dry. Harley couldn't help but stare at his toned backside, biceps rippling as he pulled his shirt off. He dressed down to his boxer shorts before climbing into his sleeping back. Harley could hear his chattering teeth from all the way across the room.

Ellis cared for her all day. Feeding her, changing her dressings, and dispensing medication. He made sure to keep it light, as apparently she mumbled in her sleep about her addiction. The fuzzy feeling became normal again, launching her into the past once more.

 _Green, blue, and red lights pulsed to the beat of the music. Bodies rippled with the music, a harmonic movement resembling a wave. The bass shook the shitty warehouse, which smelled like sawdust and marijuana. Harley was sitting on a crate in the back, guzzling down a beer while smoking a cigarette. Peyton was somewhere in the mosh pit, grinding on some underclassmen._

 _"_ _Hey, I remember you!" A male voice slurred._

 _His face was familiar, but Harley couldn't put a name to it. Shaggy brown hair, a scuff like face, and chocolate brown eyes under the light. His pupils covered most of the color, though. He wordlessly opened his palm, a tiny sheet of paper in the center of it. Harley raised her eyebrow, waiting for the catch._

 _"_ _How much?" Harley wasn't about to get ripped off._

 _"_ _Free, on me. You'll like it so much you'll come back." He winked._

 _She shrugged, plucking the sheet from his hand. Placing it on her tongue, the acid seeped into her saliva. The lights turned into different pulsations, every color a new animal slithering around. Harley had never had a trip so intense, where every sense was stimulated. Her beer suddenly tasted like wheat, the gum she chewed an explosion of strawberry. Too much, yet so good._

 _Peyton was suddenly beside her, laughing about something that probably wasn't funny. A face emerged from the crowd, warping into a snake before popping like a balloon._

 _Too much._

Harley woke with an audible gasp, and she was too slow to clap her hands over her mouth. Everyone but Nick seemed to be snoozing. We were beat, cold to the core. She tried to shake off the memory.

"Nick, can we get drunk?" Harley whimpered.

"That sounds like the best idea in the world." He groaned.

She forgot he was down to his underwear. Her eyes travelled greedily down his abs, to the happy trail peeking out of his boxers. She didn't blush, she wasn't embarrassed to look. The bottle of Jack was in his hands, the lid popped off.

"We've sure gone to hell, haven't we?" Nick said after a swig

Harley answered by downing a good 2 shots. The buzz was instant, mixing with her meds like honey. It wasn't long before her head was draped on Nick's shoulder. His arm automatically wrapped around her shoulder, like second nature. They sat like this for a while, enjoying the simple luxury of being drunk.

"Can I tell you something?" Nick asked after a comfortable silence.

"You don't have to ask, dumbass." Harley nudged him playfully.

"Shut the fuck up, Har." He sighed. "I'm just, fuck, I'm happy I met you."

Harley paused. Nick had never really explained why he was so friendly with her. He never seemed to utter more than a sentence or two to the others, and tended to follow her protectively when they were fighting the hordes. She smiled softly, noticing how much the pain had receded in her abdomen.

"How bad is it?" She asked, nodding to her chest.

"We can probably head out later tonight, they were pretty shallow but bled a lot."

"They don't hurt too bad right now. They were stinging pretty bad, did I get acid in them?"

"Mhmm. We stitched you up, so don't go and rip them anytime soon."

They once again went quiet, sharing the bottle and numbing their demons. After awhile, Harley became restless. Her body itched for comfort, something that came around scarcely.

"Can we go now?" Harley mumbled.

Nick nodded silently, standing up to rouse Rochelle, Ellis and Coach. When Harley got up, her body felt sticky with sweat and dried blood. Her chest protested, but barely. The group was looking at her with awe, which pissed her off.

"I'm not some damsel in distress." She spat, getting the eyes averted.

The safe room door led them into a back alleyway, the cobblestone road brought them to a deserted tourist trap. Harley noticed the zombies enjoyed the rain more, and were much more dormant than the ones in Savannah. Nonetheless, as soon as one spotted her, the horde ensued. The backfire of rifles echoed throughout the narrow street, attracting all of the once passive infected. They screamed and howled, ringing in her ears. Pushing one off of her, she felt a stabbing pain in her chest. Damn stitches.

"I hear a hunter!" Ellis howled over the now subsiding horde.

Harley's ears perked up, hearing the telltale screech of a special. Her eye caught on the rooftops, a hooded figure balancing on a flagpole. Harley whipped her gun out, quickly getting the hunter in her scope. With one squeeze, the hunter was no more.

The group was on edge as they scoured the streets, coming across a dead end. The road had caved in, zombies face down in the muddy water. Some congregated inside the drainage pipes. Ellis was the first to shoot.

"Fuck, Ellis!" Nick shouted.

"Quick, through here!" Coach pointed to a broken window into what seemed to be a pub.

Harley tried lifting herself through the window, to no avail. Her stomach burned and she could feel blood starting to seep into her wet clothes. Ellis noticed her flailing, and the incoming infected. He scooped her up bridal style, and yanked her through the window. She only had moments to scramble for her gun before the horde poured though the windows.

She took cover behind the wooden bar, setting her sniper on the counter to steady it. Coach stood guard in front of her, getting any straggler that tried to bite at her. Harley realized she attracted them, as fresh blood was basically a flashing sign.

A jockey found his way inside, the manacle laughing too much to bear. It leapt on top of Rochelle, trying to drag her outside.

"Fuck, jockey on Ro!" Ellis hollered, he was too preoccupied with the commons.

Harley tried to line up her sight, but it was too risky. Shooting Rochelle would kill her. Nick grabbed Rochelle's hand, using the butt of his gun to slam the jockey off. He killed it with three bullets to the head. The commons had suddenly disappeared, leaving them a moment to rest. Harley noticed her buzz was still very much present.

"Guys?" She tried to keep the slur out of her voice.

"Awh hell no." Coach cursed.

They all looked at him with confusion. "What?"

"She's shitfaced. Surprised she could handle her gun." Coach's stern glare could melt ice.

"I'll watch her." Nick stood protectively in front of her.

They scoured the bar, finding an upstairs and basement. Harley went upstairs, her gun holstered. Nick had insisted on taking the lead. Damn him and his overprotectiveness. They walked into a makeshift bedroom, a mattress pulled into the middle of the room. A suitcase filled to the brim with cash, and a few pistols.

"Sweet!" She exclaimed. They looked much more powerful than her side arm.

She swapped them out, as well as stocking up on pistol ammo. She was running out of sniper ammo. Luckily, the suitcase was filled with all sorts of bullets. A magazine of rifle bullets was a godsend. They heard Coach let out a shrill whistle, a sign to regroup. They found him at a door leading out of the bar, into a tour of the "Historic Underground River." It was clear how much of a trap it was. Wooden bars were pried off of the staircase down, and water was pooled up below it. It smelled like a mixture of feces, rotting flesh, and mold.

"You're kidding." Nick groaned.

"Theres a safe house past this, look." Rochelle pointed to a spray pained symbol, a house with a plus sign in it.

Harley let out a moan. She didn't want to get her wounds infected. "What about my stomach?"

"We can't let that get infected, shit." Ellis rubbed his hair under his hat

"I can carry her, if you keep us covered." Coach suggested.

"No, I got her. You're one of our best shots, Coach." Nick commanded. He wasn't the unspoken leader, but when he got his mind set on something, they didn't argue.

Coach nodded. "Well lets go, when it gets too deep Nick'll carry you."

The "Tour" consisted of soggy wooden boards floating over rainwater. Condensation dripped from the concrete walls, and the dampness made breathing hard. Apparently the infected loved the humidity, and flocked inside. Harley stayed more in the back as the zombies were sprayed with bullets. Her head hurt, the stitches stinging. She bit her lip until she tasted blood.

"Shh, spitter." Rochelle muttered.

Harley wasn't paying attention, and basically shoulder checked the spitter. It let out a surprised squeal, trying to scratch into her skin. Nick suddenly had her by the waist, hauling Harley out of the way as Ellis killed it.

"You okay?" Nick asked, holding onto her still.

"Yeah." She said through gritted teeth.

He arched his eyebrow. "Stay behind me."

She nodded, her pain blinding her usual sass. She stayed quiet, not really taking in her surroundings. Her eyes weren't cooperating. A smell hit her like a brick, the smell of feces and sewer water. Nick stopped, groaning. The walkway had fallen into the sewer, behind a locked gate that surely would set an alarm off. There was a small pile of ammunition by a decomposed body. The group picked over the body, finding packages of cheetos and a pack of cigarettes. Nick took those.

"Well, you guys all ready?" Coach asked.

Nick suddenly pulled Harley off of her feet, holding her body close to his chest. She felt like such a baby, but her wounds were almost unbearable. Nothing that she had ever experienced.

"We're almost there, Har. Just hold on." Nick mumbled, before kissing her hair.

She felt her head flush, the area where his lips were burning hot. Coach hit the button, but she hardly noticed the noise. All she felt was his lips on her hair. The infected scratched at her body, the water lapping at her backside. The smell became so bad, it overwhelmed her senses. A hunter narrowly missed her, screeching right in her face. Rochelle slammed it onto the side of the sewer wall, the butt of her gun lodged in its brain.

"C'mon, 'Chelle!" Coach bellowed.

Harley was fading fast. By the time they reached the ladder out into the saferoom, her breath was shallow.


	8. Chapter 8

**Just finished finals, so I'm back to writing more often now. Here's a really important chapter, so don't skip it!**

 **Love, Fudge**

"Guys…" Nick called out as they slammed the safe room door shut.

They laid out Harley on the concrete floor, using all of their sleeping bags to support her body. She felt Nick take off her shirt, feeling slightly embarrassed. Her stitches were seeping fresh blood, but they weren't ripped completely. Instead, they were stretched and the gaping holes were bleeding. She felt faint.

"We shouldn't of pushed you so far. Fuck." Nick grunted, pulling out a bottle of antiseptic.

Harley howled in pain as they sterilized her wounds, her hands grasping at the concrete. Ellis grabbed her hand, giving her his trademark goofy grin. Her stomach still burned with agony as they stitched up the wounds, each poke earning a cry. They finished quickly, Nick leaving Rochelle to wrap her up.

"We need to get out of here." Coach was pacing back and forth.

"With her like this? Fuck no, Coach." Nick growled.

"If we can get the bridge lowered and keep her out of the front lines, we have more time for her to heal. Warmth, Nick." Coach argued back.

"We need to go." Harley piped up.

"Har, you look like you're going to up and die." Nick shook his head.

"I agree with Coach. Let's go. I can stay up on the rafters until you get the bridge lowered."

Nick cursed under his breath, shaking his head. Ellis helped Harley up, helping her to put her shirt back on. She hardly noticed that her boobs had been hanging out the entire time. The group was so used to the blood and gore of the infected, a pair of breasts didn't faze them. Except Nick, who made sure to avert his eyes.

She shrugged on her jacket, slinging everything behind her back. Nick handed her a few precious pain killers. She took them greedily, waiting for the pain to be numbed. Sure, they could have been used for more serious injuries, but she would have to endure the pain of countless zombies.

She picked up something off one of the two tables. A bottle of rubbing alcohol, with cloth sticking out of the top. A crude Molotov cocktail, but it would work. She clipped it to her backpack. The group was ready for the slaughter fest. Rochelle opened the safe room door, which led up a long set of stairs. Harley leaned on Nick as they walked up, trying to keep her abdomen straight. At the top of the stairs, the girl they had met before was on the bridge, as well as two other men.

The injured one was a lanky black man, with a balding head and dirty accountant clothing. His leg was in a makeshift splint, blood caked to his slacks. The other man was a greasy biker man, leather jacket and all. He looked bloodthirsty as he raked his eyes over them, but softened when he saw Harley.

"She's injured." The biker said to Zoey.

"We can keep you up here, you guys are gonna need some cover." Zoey nodded to Harley.

"What exactly are we needing to do?" Rochelle rested a hand on her hip.

"The generators are out of gas. We saw a shit ton of gas in the warehouses around here. We can cover you while you get them. It's gonna be loud, and they're going to hear." Biker explained.

"Fuck this." Nick cussed.

"Take the elevator down and get started, ladies!" Biker hollered.

Nick transferred Harley over to the group, using Biker as a crutch. He sat her down on the corner of the walkway, a perfect sniping nest. Zoey was not far behind, using a crude M16 with dried blood up the muzzle. It seemed sentimental, but she didn't ask. Instead, she pulled her gun off her back, and loaded a magazine. She kept her scope trained near Nick and Coach, before covering Nick completely. He had gone off into a warehouse alone.

"God dammit." Harley sighed.

The earth began to shake underneath them. Harley stiffened immediately. A tank was near, and they had to be careful. She ripped the Molotov off her backpack, fumbling to find a lighter. She found one in a half full pack of cigarettes. Taking no time to spare, she stuck a cigarette in her mouth and waited. The second she saw the tank barreling down a straight shoot, the molotov was lit and thrown.

The tank exploded into a flash of orange, sizzling right on impact. He hollered in pain, the fire pissing him off even more. He grabbed a hunk of concrete, trying to find a victim. Rochelle was the closest person. He threw it at her, narrowly missing.

"Watch out guys!" Biker yelled to Nick and Coach, who were carrying gas to the generator.

Harley was shooting blindly at the Tank with her sniper, while trying to keep an eye on Nick. She felt a sense of protectiveness over him, something she couldn't describe. She would protect everyone in her group to the bitter end, but Nick? Harley would take on a million more witches for him to be safe.

"Har!" Nick bellowed.

A charger had cornered him, rearing his massive arm up. He hit Nick square in the face, his nose crunching under the blow. Harley screamed, instantly sending a bullet straight through the special infected's head. Nick got back up, his nose streaming blood. The tank had long since burned to a crisp, the smell of rotten burnt flesh making her nauseous. Coach was busy fighting off a smoker, cutting his slimy tongue in half.

"Guys, we got another tank!" The injured man called.

Harley saw Zoey pull something out of her pocket, something that looked like a PVC pipe. It had a flashing red light, as well as a fuse. When she lit the fuse, a loud beeping noise was emitted. She threw it, the zombies running at it with all their strength. They fought for the pipe, biting and scratching each other for it. The ticking got louder and louder, before it exploded. Harley jumped, getting a sharp pain in her chest.

"What the fuck was that?" Harley screeched.

"You've never heard of a pipe bomb?" Zoey laughed lightly.

Harley shook her head, focusing back into her scope. She shot at some of the infected. It scared her how used to this she was, that shooting a human's head off was considered normal. Well, they weren't technically human, but only resembled them physically. Harley wondered if they actually were conscious. If they felt pain, sadness… loneliness.

She shuttered. The bridge shuttered, before the ramp suddenly fell down. She felt the screams in the distance as the horde was alerted. As fast as possible, she got off her stomach and limped to the ladder. It took everything in her not to scream as she nearly fell down the ladder. Luckily, a pair of strong hands caught her when the last rung tripped her up.

"You okay, Harley?" Ellis asked. He pronounced her name like "Har-leigh"

"I could be a lot better. Please get me to the car!" Harley's voice became a howl when she saw the sheer number of infected.

He rushed her to the car, where the group was not so patently waiting. Harley noticed a dark expression on Nick's face as Ellis put her in the car, his lips pressed together in a sneer. She ignored it, laying stomach up on the back seat. Rochelle pulled her shirt up, hurriedly changing the soiled bandages. It was more water than blood, thankfully. She was propped up on Rochelle and Nick's legs, tears threatening to spill.

"Your stitches aren't broken, which is good. No sign of infection." Rochelle muttered.

The group was miserable. Their clothes stuck, as the rainwater dried on them. The car smelled like blood, rotting flesh and body odor. Coach was driving, franticly trying to not hit anything. Or, what used to be a person. They drove for about two hours, Until they reached swampy outskirts. There were buildings, old dilapidated homes.

"We gotta stop somewhere." Rochelle sighed. "Harley needs to be looked at."

Harley swallowed. Her throat was sore from screaming. They chose a victorian-esque house, the bright hello stucco walls like a neon sign. It was hidden pretty well, a swamy marsh right in front of it. Harley wondered why such an "Alice in Wonderland" inspired house was in the middle of the deep south. Coach pulled into the concrete driveway, the garage door opened. The inside was filled with dust and work tools. Harley tried to get out of the car, but had to lean on Ellis for support. He helped her up the garage stairs inside the house.

It was a modern layout, which didn't match the outside at all. Elegant pillars, victorian couches, and lavish curtains. It looked like they were remodeling the garage, but the inside was prestine. Ellis hobbled Harley over to the living room, slowly laying her on the couch. Blood had began flowing from her, dripping onto the wood floor. She remembered someone squeezing her hand before the fog rolled over.

She awoke in an unfamiliar bedroom. It was dark outside, and various candles were lit to keep some sort of light. It felt too cozy. She tried to prop herself up, but her sticky wounds protested slightly. She wasn't in the same clothes either. They were silken pajama pants, which slid over her obviously clean body.

Someone wrapped their knuckles against the door quietly. When Harley didn't respond, Nick let himself in. He was in cargo shorts and a shirt with the sleeves ripped off. His strong arms were illuminated by the candle light. His hair was wet, and he smelled like soap.

"Hey, Har." He whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Where are we, Nick?" She rasped, her voice caught.

Nick picked up the glass of water that was by her bedside, and handed her two oval pills. "Can you handle pain meds?"

"Yeah." She mumbled.

"This place isn't that secure." Nick sighed. "Coach and Ellis have been taking turns staying up and sniping some of them. I'm in charge of tending to you."

"Such an honor!" She laughed hoarsely.

Nick shrugged. He made himself comfortable, laying next to Harley. She could smell cigarette smoke and lavender shampoo.

"Did you bathe me?" Harley whispered.

"Mhmm."

She swallowed. "Well, did you like what you saw?"

Nick didn't answer. Instead, he just sighed and pulled a few wisps of her long blonde hair through his fingers. It was calming, oddly. She exhaled, closing her eyes. She felt him pull her body slowly into his arms, his body warm. Harley concentrated on the beating of his heart, the pain subdued by the medication she was on.

"Harley?" Nick whispered. She let out a small "mhmm" in response.

"I just… I want you to know I really care about you."

That caught her off guard. "Why are you telling me this?"

"In case something happens to one of us." He mumbled, turning his eyes away from her.

She sighed. Nick was hot one second, cold the next. Her wounds throbbed whenever she moved. Harley was beginning to feel hopeless. How could she survive all this shit when her intestines are threatening to spill out? She didn't understand why Nick was so hellbent on taking care of her, when Rochelle or Ellis were just as capable. Harley focused on his fingers brushing through her hair, soothing her.

"You're not as bad as you think you are." Harley mumbled.

He laughed, bitterly. "You don't know me then."

"Tell me who you are, prove me wrong." She challenged.

Nick sighed, running his hands through his now clean hair. Harley didn't notice until now that he was clean shaven.

"Well. I was born in Phoenix. Dad left right after my mom gave birth, and we moved to Vegas. I was too young to remember how my mom made her money. My relatives said she was a stripper, prostitute and sold drugs. Guess that's why I'm so fucked up. I took off and lived with a friend at 13. We were such little shits." He laughed. "We'd steal lunch money and go get candy and soda at the minimart. He grew out of it eventually. I didn't…."

"Keep going." Harley nudged.

"I was, just thinking." Nick snapped, but without spite. "I joined a group of guys that obviously were no good. We all lived together in a shitty duplex paid for with drug money. I conned people out of their precious money at poker, as well as sell coke or pot. I didn't go for the harder ones."

Harley laughed. "I have no place to judge you, Nick."

"I know. Doesn't mean I didn't do them. Anywho, where was I? Oh yeah. I married my first wife at 19. We have a drive thru wedding, lasted two years. God, she was a beauty. A bitchy one, though. Wouldn't let me go anywhere without her. My second wife lasted a little longer, same deal. Third one died in a house fire caused by a meth lab exploding next door. Freak accident."

"Was she the one that got away?" Harley questioned.

He laughed, bitterly. "Oh fuck no. I had my doubts, she hided the fact she was working the streets for drugs. She was a nice girl, pretty enough. Just not for me."

She didn't know how to respond. Nick just poured his whole life out to her, probably the first time he ever had shared this. He was staring at her, waiting for a reaction.

"You aren't going to run?" Nick asked.

"Why would I?" She shot back.

"Because I'm a fucked up person."

"So am I."

Nick pulled a pack of Marlboro's out of his jean pocket, handing Harley one before placing one between his lips. She lit up, the rich smoke relaxing her. Something about smoking made her forget her current worries. She was going to die anyways, why not enjoy life's little pleasures? Harley jumped as gunshots rang off.

"I'll be right back." Nick hopped off the bed, kissing her forehead.

She pulled back in shock. Nick didn't notice, but she blushed a bright red. The area where his lips touched her was like a hot iron. Why did this make her act like a little school girl? Harley shook her head, taking another drag. The window opposite her was cracked open, the silk curtains blowing in the wind. The scuffling of feet on pavement or concrete was heard, as well as a sick crunch. The infected, though numbered, were finding them. She ached to help, but the pills made her inept. Instead, she laid on her back and stared at the ceiling.

Why would Nick kiss her? Harley knew a romantic relationship was out of the picture, yet she still wondered what it would be like to be intimate with him. From what Nick said, he was nowhere near a model boyfriend. The line was getting blurred from the constant cuddling, favoritism and now kissing. They were going to have to make a decision soon. Harley was confused as to what she wanted. On one hand, Nick was her closest ally. If a relationship was to bloom and fail, she would no longer have a budding friendship. She didn't want to lose him. But she found herself longing for his touch, wondering what his soft lips felt on hers.

Nick knocked lightly before entering, a wide grin on his lips. He held something behind his back, like a parent surprising his child with a gift.

"So I did a little snooping and found something you would like."

Harley cocked her head. He pulled out the gift, a smile erupting on Harley's face. Nick held a navy twisted bong. She felt the need to hug him. Trying to shift her body without stretching her stitches was a challenge, but it was worth it. Harley wrapped her arms tentatively around his neck, her eyes searching for permission. His arms were around her waist, pulling her into his lap. They sat there hugging for awhile, enjoying each others company and warmth. Harley didn't realize how much human contact she was lacking. Not that she had ever had it in the first place.

"Thank you." Harley mumbled into his ear.

"For what?" He pulled away slightly to look in her eyes.

"Hugging me. And the sick bong."

Nick smiled, the crooked grin causing her insides to warm. She shifted back, taking the bong into her hands. It was sturdy and glass, filled perfectly with water and a nice bowl piece. Nick had already loaded her a bowl. She took a deep breath before taking a hit, the smoke making her lungs quiver. Coughing as she exhaled, Harley winced in pain. Nick was instantly by her side, silently asking if she was okay. She nodded before taking another one.

"This helps a lot with the pain Nick. Thanks, really." Harley was flopped back down, the high hitting her like a wave.

He laughed, taking the bong from her. She heard his lighter spark and the bubbling of smoke being pulled into the water. His hit seemed to go on forever, and he exhaled without a single cough before laying down with her. She felt so deeply under the influence of weed, something she didn't feel with the other drugs. Heroin made her forget, made her so doped up she couldn't think. Weed made her think too much.

"Do you think we'll make it out of this shit?" Harley asked him, turning to look at his face.

"I really hope so, but odds are against us."

"It's just scary knowing any day could be our last." She trailed off.

"Princess, I'm right there with you. I never thought I was scared of dying until now." He sighed.

"You portray yourself as a pretty fearless dude, Nick." Harley's laugh was genuine.

"I have a habit of hiding emotions, but that's kinda obvious."

"Why are you scared of dying now?" She was interested, trying to see if she could crack open his shell.

"I'm afraid…" He trailed off, embarrassed. "Of losing you, Harley."

He turned to look at her, their faces close together. Closer than Harley would normally be used to. No guy had ever kissed her, something she was embarrassed of. Nick would probably laugh his ass off at the thought of her being a virgin.

"Can I tell you something I'm embarrassed of?" A blush creeped across her face.

"You can tell me anything."

"I've never kissed anyone." She tried to hide her face behind her hair.

He caught her face with his hand, pushing the hair away from her face. He looked her dead in the eye, his gorgeous grey eyes staring into her soul it seemed. Wordlessly, his face inched closer to hers, noses touching. He caressed her face, before lightly touching his lips to hers. So soft and warm, she was shocked. The line was so far blurred now, she couldn't help herself but to kiss him back. It was such a foreign feeling, and the weed enhanced everything. She pulled away trembling, looking at Nick with wide eyes.

"Its the end of the world darling, why not pop a few cherries?" He smirked, his eyes warm. Not something she saw very often.

She felt his arms wrap around her waist, pressing her face into his chest. He smelled like soap and musk. Harley fell into a peaceful slumber.

 **A/N I'll try to write more often, if you want updates faster just PM me and it'll** **put** **a fire under my ass. Love you guys.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey guys. How** **many times can I apologize for not following up? Short chapter, As i've been busy.**

Harley woke up to the sound of gunfire. Nick was nowhere to be found, and the shattering of glass caused her to panic. She scrambled to pick up her katana and sniper from the corner, her wounds protesting. The adrenaline coursing through her veins made the pain subdued, a blessing. Running down the stairs, she found the infected in the kitchen, screaming in rage. She grasped the katana, ready to slice. They charged. Harley sliced the first one's throat, before stabbing another one in the kidney. One of them grabbed at her ankle trying to trip her, earning a kick in the face.

Bullets peppered around her, buckshot spraying her. She covered her face, crouching down. Ellis had jumped through the backdoor, his shotty mowing down the rest of the infected inside. Harley peeped her head over the island counter to check if everything was safe. She then stood up, sighing a breath of relief.

"What happened?" Harley sighed, out of breath.

"We're too close to a town 'er somethin. We gotta get our stuff and get out."

Coach and Nick walked in through the front door, blood and guts splattered against their clothes. She only glanced at Nick before running up the stairs to collect her possessions. She first threw her backpack on, her wounds only slightly protesting. They were surely healing well now. She then slung her rifle around her body, finally sheathing the katana around her waist. Her side pistols were clipped onto her belt, and finally she pulled her hair into a tight ponytail.

The house was completely destroyed. Blood stained the once pristine white couches, and glass was everywhere.

The four were waiting in the foyer, mumbling about the plan.

"You okay?" Rochelle asked, rushing over to check her wounds.

"Yeah, the stitches are staying in. For now."

Nick caught her eye, who was staring. She cocked her head slightly before turning away. Now was not the time to address what happened last night. The five headed out to the race car. Their plan was the same, drive to New Orleans to find a CEDA camp. She chose to sit shotgun, purposefully avoiding Nick. The awkwardness was lost on the rest of the group, thankfully. Coach was driving, and humming to the CD playing. They had found a couple intact disks in the house. Right now, Dave Grohl crooned promising to stop, which lulled Harley into sleep.

She woke up to the gentle shaking of her shoulders. Her immediate habit was to reach for her magnum and shoot. Instead, she was pointing her weapon at Nick. She gasped in relief, before taking in her surroundings. They stopped at an offramp, where cars were piled up in every direction. It was impossible to drive any farther. She got up, nodding to Nick. It was a silent plead to drop it, they would talk about the kiss later.

"We stopped 'cuz the cars were too thick. Thank god there's some lights o'er there. Someone's gotta be there." Ellis pointed with his chin.

"Whisperin' Oaks! Man, I used to go there as a kid!" Coach bellowed, as he shot his rifle at a few infected.

"Great! Now we're gonna die there as adults!" Nick snipped out, aiming down his sights.

Harley shoved him. "Shut up, Nick."

Rochelle laughed. "Someone put you into place."

Nick growled, almost stalking like a hunter as he took cover. Harley followed, peering inside a Toyota Camry's back window. She noticed something shining from the cupholder. Taking the butt of her rifle, she smashed the window. Inside, she found an Iphone with a solar panel case. Somehow, it had seemed to still be working. Shoving it in her pocket, she promised to check it out later. Screams and moans alerted her to the current situation. Infected roamed like cattle, hundreds loitering around the abandoned car lot. Harley shivered at the thought of what happened here.

"Maybe we could find a survivor here…" Rochelle trailed off.

"I doubt it." Harley said.

Apparently it was too loud, as it alerted the hordes. They howled in rage, charging towards the group.

"Fuck! Take cover guys!" Coach bellowed. He pulled out something from his pocket.

Harley remembered seeing that girl Zoey with something similar. She called it a 'Pipe Bomb'. Coach lit the fuse, which reminded her of the fuses that shot off fireworks. The red light began to beep, putting the zombies in a trance. They threw themselves at the bomb, scratching and clawing each other to get to it. It blew up, body parts raining down. Harley had to shield her face with her olive jacket.

"Looks like that got rid of most've them." Coach muttered, peeping his head above a car.

He was right. They made their way through the cars, weaving through them. Harley rifled through the unlocked cars, finding a lot of uneaten food and a few other trinkets. They found the offramp, turning their flashlights on to see in the dark. It was quickly turning from twilight to night. Clouds threatened to dump rain. A military grade truck was parked at the bottom of the ramp, as well as a pile of ammunition and a lone shotty. Ellis traded his rusty gun for it, grabbing as many shells as he could. Harley rifled through it, and found a few magazines worth using. Coach and Nick were picking off the few zombies that took shelter under the freeway. It led them to an abandoned motel.

Harley propped up her sniper through the chain link fence, aiming down her sights at the zombies in an emptied pool. She shot delicately, not even flinching at the sight of blood. She felt a light hand on her shoulder, and turned around to see Nick.

"We need to get up there. You think you can make it?" Nick pointed upwards.

They had to climb a billboard pole and then hop down onto the top of the motel roof, about 15 feet up. Her wounds felt sticky and sore, but Harley was conflicted. She nodded. Harley refused to show her fear, fear was weakness. She shakily grabbed the first rungs, hoisting her body up. Her torso screamed in annoyance, but Harley trudged on. Nick and Coach rounded up the back, with Ellis and Rochelle on top scanning the rooftops.

"We can get behind this here motel to get to Whisperin' Oaks, see?" Ellis pointed off into the distance.

"Sure, Ellis." Nick snickered.

Harley leaned on the support beam, puffing with effort. While she was still healing, Harley felt like her endurance had taken a major blow. She wiped her brow, putting the excess sweat on her jeans. It was overcast and on the verge of chilly, but Harley was hot. She pulled her sniper off her back, eyeing zombies through her scope. Every pull of the trigger rewarded her with a spray of blood.

"Charger in the pool!" Rochelle hollered.

Harley whipped her scope into the dirty pool, seeing the mass of greenish grey flesh trying to charge them. She pepper bullets into the Charger's massive arm, while Rochelle shot it also. The infected fell down with an agonized yowl. Harley pondered that as they trudged on. Do they feel pain? Were you still, you? She shook off the thought as they were rummaging through hotel rooms.

Harley found a Snickers bar and a box of Trojans in a nighstand, as well as a headlamp and an unopened bottle of brandy. She kept everything, shoving it into her backpack. She tied her jacket around her waist, exposing her sweaty arms to the open air. She would be cold soon as her sweat would cool her down too much.

"What the fuck?!" She heard Nick howl.

She rushed out of the room without a hesitation.

 **Hopefully I'll update** **sooner. I got distracted. If you guys review or subscribe I get emails about it which reminds me to write more.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Damn, it's been too long. Just entered University so i'll have some time to write more.**

 **Fudge**

The girl was huddled in the corner of a pretty intact hotel room, squinting against Nick's flashlight. She held her pistol defensively, her expression hostile towards the group. Harley's first thought was to shoot her. She could be an enemy. Harley could tell Nick felt the same. They made eye contact, silently agreeing.

"Another survivor?" Coach hollered in excitement.

"Can you guys just leave me alone? Or at least shoot me in the fucking head so I don't die." The girl snapped.

She had a high pitched, almost whiney voice. It was nowhere near menacing. Her hair was a deep burgundy, cut bluntly to her mid neck. Her features were sharp, and she was lithe. No meat on her bones. She wasn't particularly attractive to Harley, but that wasn't relevant. What was relevant was what the group was going to do with her.

"Now we ain't gonna shoot no one here. What's your name?" Coach pushed Nick aside, his eyes harsh. Nick lowered his weapon, walking out the door. He nodded his head as to ask Harley to follow.

"We're gonna watch guard outside while you interrogate her." Harley pointed her chin at the girl. She had no interest in the new survivor.

Harley walked outside, somewhat perplexed about what she was going to say to Nick. This was their first interaction since he had kissed her. He stood leaning against the railing, his body language relaxed. She stood next to him, lighting a cigarette. He noticed her, taking the cigarette out of her hand and taking a drag.

"Hey." He muttered.

"Hi." She whispered back.

Nick tentatively raised his hand, caressing her cheek. His touch made her hair stand on end. She didn't know what it was about Nick now that made her feel so..awkward. Before, she had no problem talking shit and teasing him. But the lines were so blurred now, she didn't even know what her true feelings are.

"Are we okay?" He asked, noticing her expression.

"I just don't know what to feel." Harley whispered, while exhaling.

"Did you want me to kiss you?"

She gulped. "Yes."

"Then why are you so awkward around me?"

Her hair bristled in annoyance. "Because Nick, I was happy with us being friends but now I don't even know what we are anymore!"

He laughed, a genuine one. "I really like you, Har. We don't need labels, this isn't some high school bullshit thing. We're in the fucking zombie apocalypse for god's sake."

She rolled her eyes, and Nick playfully punched her shoulder.

They stood in silence, the only disturbance being Nick shooting lone infected. After about fifteen minutes, The group walked out followed by the stranger.

"She's gonna stick around with us for awhile." Coach declared.

Harley started to protest, but Nick silenced her. "One less person against us, right Harley?"

She ground her teeth together. "Yup!"

"Harley, this is Sasha. Sasha, Harley." Ellis introduced them. She noticed how peppy he seemed.

Harley nodded her head, cutting off Sasha from any sort of introduction. Harley wasn't fond of this girl. In fact, Harley wasn't fond of any newcomers. She was fiercely protective of her group, something she wouldn't of ever believed when she first met them. They made their way behind the motel, finding a steep cliff.

"Shit." Harley groaned.

"Look's like we're gonna have to slide down." Coach said. Harley wanted to punch him.

Nick pulled a pipe bomb off of his belt loop, chucking it into the marshy bottom of the cliff. She admired his toss, noticing the rippling of his muscles through his tee shirt. She had to rip her eyes away to slice away at an impending zombie. Blood spattered in her face, the smell like rotting meat.

The bomb exploded, bringing a eerie silence to the marsh. They slipped down the cliff, Sasha stuck firmly in the front with Coach. Ellis and Rochelle followed them, with Nick and Harley taking on the rear. She felt his hand snake around her neck, rubbing it reassuringly. She snorted and shoved him away playfully.

"Don't try me, Harley." He growled playfully.

"Nick, shut up. We're trying to not attract any more of them." Rochelle hissed.

Harley caught Nick stalking up to her. She had no time to slip away before his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her face dangerously close to the murky water. She screamed in annoyance, kicking and screaming like a little girl.

"Put me the fuck down!" Harley squealed.

She heard the rest of the team sans Sasha laughing, Ellis howling so much he tripped over a branch and fell in a puddle. She snorted at this, using the distraction to wiggle out of Nick's arms and lock her leg in to the backside of his knee, causing it to give out. He fell into the water with a loud thud.

"You fucking bitch!" Nick howled.

She cackled. Sasha seemed to be a no nonsense kind of girl, using this time to stalk around and look for supplies. She didn't trust this girl. Sasha had dirty strawberry blonde hair, an upturned nose and doe like eyes. She was the girl every high school jock wanted to fuck. Her body was like a model's, thin and lithe. Harley had nothing in common with this girl. Where Sasha was a twig, Harley was more filled out and curvy.

After the laughing had ceased, a few lone infected had caught on to their presence from atop of a hill. Coach noticed the hill brought them closer to the theme park. After shooting the stragglers, they made their way up the hill. It was steep and slippery, and Harley almost fell more than a couple times. It was hard on her stitches, but it helped to train her stamina. It seemed to last forever, but she reached the top without stopping.

The hill lead them to a parking lot with a trailer leading into the park. The lot was filled with milling zombies, looking almost peaceful. Most of them were sitting or laying down. At the scent of the survivors, they perked up. Harley was too breathless to start shooting. Sasha was first to shoot, then the rest followed suit. Harley pressed herself behind a truck, pulling out her Deagle. Peaking her head around the truck, she blindly shot until hitting a mark.

"Harley get the fuck in here!" Coach boomed.

She growled under her breath, muttering curse words as she sprinted to the room. Narrowly dodging an infected's grasp, she pistol whipped the shit out of the now long dead zombie. She had hit it right in the face, crushing the nose into the skull. Harley called the zombie "It" As is was now unrecognizable. She made it in safely, slumping into a corner. The group was crowded around the ammo pile.

"Man! I remember seeing them in concert!" Ellis pointed to a ripped poster.

It was a poster of a band named Midnight Riders, which looked like a cliche rock band. All the members were clad in leather, literally covered in it. There were skulls, fire, and pentagrams scattered around the tacky poster.

"They look like they suck." Sasha commented, cleaning off her pistol.

Harley agreed with her, but refused to say anything. "It says here that they were evacuating in the rec center right there." Coach pointed to a map of the amusement park.

"It looks pretty dead out there." Nick was looking outside the iron doors.

"You gotta have faith out here, Nick. You never know." Rochelle put her hand on his shoulder, which he shrugged off.

Harley had regained her breath at this point, and was checking the ammo pile for some rifle bullets. She found a few packs, which could tide her over until the next safe room. She sat down by Nick, lighting a cigarette to calm her nerves. He looked at her but said nothing. Silence was nice.

"So Sasha." Ellis drawled. He drug her name out, which grossed Harley out.

Sasha looked at him expectantly.

"What's yer story?" He put on his puppy dog face, sitting on the bottom of a bucket.

"Born and raised here. That's all you need to know." She grumbled.

Harley snorted. "What a bitch." She whispered to Nick.

"Harley, play nice. They seem to like her enough. And remember, you were a bitch when we first met you." Nick snatched the cigarette out of her mouth and taking a puff.

She rested her head on his shoulder and drifted to sleep.

They must have only been there for an hour or so, because the sky was still blue grey when Harley was awoken. She shook off the grogginess associated with naps, and found herself in the middle of an argument.

"She doesn't trust her." Nick was whispering.

"That don't mean shit boy." Coach was sneering. "We ain't gonna just drop Sasha because Harley can't get along with another girl."

"You know Harley is usually right though." Nick's voice was lower.

"That don't mean we can just leave her out for the zombies." Rochelle spoke now.

"I wasn't saying that." Nick sounded frustrated. "We can't trust her."

Nick then noticed she was awake, and the conversation ended. He walked over to her, lifting her shirt up lightly to see her stitches. Her first instinct was to rip his hands off of her and punch him. But she trusted Nick. Her wound was no longer open, the stitches had healed them. It was still an aggravated blush color, and felt sore.

"We can take your stitches out now." He mumbled. His hand traced her hip bone slightly before going to get Rochelle.

Rochelle came into view, holding her medical grade first aid kit. She examined Harley thoroughly, making sure no exposed flesh was left. When her reports came back good, Rochelle got out a pair of scissors and tweezers. The feeling wasn't painful, more like annoying. She had to grit her teeth a few times when Rochelle was pulling them out, but it was over before she new it. She got up slowly, making sure she didn't shift her weight too quickly. That could cause her fragile stomach to rip open again. Damn witch.

They made their way out of the safe room, with Coach leading. Sasha was behind him, which slightly annoyed Harley. Coach was the only one making conversation with Sasha, whom didn't seem interested in the slightest.

"You said yer from around here, right?" Coach said in-between gunshots.

"Yeah. Live a couple streets down." Sasha seemed reserved about it.

"Any friends or family you were with?" Coach sounded worry.

Harley gritted her teeth together, trying to stifle a growl. Now wasn't the time for a conversation. The fairgrounds were littered with body parts, empty guns, and infected. They were sloppy, missing shots and alerting countless other walkers. This caused a hunter to go unnoticed as it prowled on the rooftops. Harley watched, frozen in place, as it soared in the sky, gracefully leaping in front of her.

The hunter seemed to be newly infected, blood still slightly oozing from his bite mark. His eyes were bloodshot, and were weeping chunky red tears. Scratches marked up its face, as well as his arms and legs. His hands were mutated, the nails about six inches long and razor sharp. They were jagged, serrated weapons that had bits of flesh left in them. Harley tried to run away, but the hunter grabbed her foot and sent her spiraling to the ground. She let out a howl of pain as she hit the concrete, her sore abdomen flashing in pain.

"Get the fuck off of me!" She screamed, kicking blindly at the thing.

It dragged her into a bathroom, away from the group. None of them seemed to notice her struggle for life. It flung her against the brick wall, her head nailing the wall. The hunter almost seemed to enjoy this. It stalked up to her, sticking its rotten face right into hers. Its' breath was indescribably foul, a mixture of rotten eggs and garbage.

"What do you want from me?" Harley asked, before laughing at herself.

She was praying someone noticed her disappearance. White hot pain flashed against her cheekbone, as the Hunter dragged its claws slowly on the highest point of her left cheek.

It cackled. It fucking cackled. Harley thought she was imagining it, but then it made that rough barking noise again.

A gunshot silenced the noise. Nick had shot it point blank in the head. She sighed in relief, the encounter seriously creeping her out.

"Why didn't you fucking yell?" Nick growled, but his anger wasn't pointed at her.

"I did, Coach and the bitch were too busy talking to hear it." Harley got up, feeling sore.

Nick grabbed her chin with his hand, cocking it slightly to admire the wound. "You'll be fine for now, we'll get some sutures in there next safe room."

"Okay." Harley huffed.

Nick stopped her. In one fluid movement, he tentatively pressed his lips to hers. In the privacy of the bathroom, Harley didn't feel embarrassed. Only a fire burning deep inside her stomach. She looked into his eyes as he pulled away, searching for some sort of answer to why he kissed her. He only nodded softly, giving his trademark sly grin. They returned, seeing the group gathered around a carnival game that was still working. They had to shoot all of the enemies, while sparing the hero, a peanut looking thing. Ellis and Coach were shooting. Sasha was shuffling around, seeming out of place.

"Thanks guys." Harley huffed.

"We didn't hear yah, why didn't yah haller?" Ellis said between firing.

"Yeah, I did. Maybe if you weren't talking all the fucking time you would have heard." She breezed by Sasha, bristling.

They stopped at a park bench, finding a mountain of ammo and a bloody shotgun.

"What happened here…?" Rochelle mumbled, running her hands over the shotgun.

"Someone mustve turned." Sasha responded. She loaded her gun up with a new clip.

"No shit someone turned." Nick snapped, stalking around like a caged bird.

"Let's just keep going, okay? No fighting." Coach commanded.

The group followed Coach, into an alleyway leading into a building. It was a storage room, with random parts for a stage. Ellis palmed a shiny new electric guitar in his firm hands. He took a few practice strums, laughing when it was obviously out of tune. Harley searched around the building, finding one of those fancy pipe bombs she had seen a few times. Walking out of the storage room, they found themselves located at the kids section of the amusement parks, filled with kiddie rides and empty food carts. She even saw an infected sitting on one of the plastic horses on the carousel. It looked straight out of zombieland.

"Man, Kiddy Land!" Ellis whistled, pulling his cap off to scratch his long sandy hair.

"How the hell are we supposed to find the safe house in here?" Coach bellowed.

It seemed to piss off the undead, as screeches could be heard echoing around the park. A massive horde spilled out from a corridor, where the trademark safe zone sign pointed to. Well, shit, Harley thought, reading her Katana. She felt a pair of hands grab her shoulder, whirling her around face to face with an infected. Harley squealed in fear at the infected who grabbed her, stabbing it in the chest with her sword. Sasha stood behind her, wrestling with a few who got her cornered. Harley was tempted to not help her, but she had to. She couldn't lose the trust of her group. Or Nick.

The horde raged on, caging the six in to Kiddy Land.

"Charger!" Coach howled as a giant armed infected charged for him. Rochelle was the closest, and got a clean shot to the chest on the charger. It stumbled from the impact, giving her the time to shoot it in the head.

"Nice, 'Chelle!" Harley called.

The horde disappeared as fast as it came. Soon, only bodies littered the floor. They took a second to regroup, and tape up a scrape Coach got from tripping over a body and landing on his elbows. Those would sting for a few times. The group's mood quickly faltered as they walked through the corridor, finding more and more dead bodies. No CEDA in sight. They had to climb up a service ladder that lead to a giant slide, something children would ride down in old flour sacks. Harley remembered going to the fair with her dad, eating cotton candy and elephant ears. The smell of sickly sweet treats and sweat from the volume of people.

"Har, earth to Har!" Ellis called.

She shook physically. "What, Ellis?"

"We think that the tunnel of love over there is the safe room. But theres a problem." Nick explained. He touched her elbow lightly, leading her to the railing that looked over the back part of the park. His simple touch set fire to her insides.

"That carousel is enclosed in a chain link fence that will only open if we turn it on. Thats going to attract a lot of infected." Coach muttered, letting out a curse.

"We'll just have to fight our way through." Sasha mumbled, cocking her magnum.

"It's not that simple. We don't know where to turn the damn thing off, or else it'll attract the rest of the park. We need someone fast to lead and figure out where the off switch is." Coach's voice was strained with stress and annoyance.

"I've got a pipe bomb on me. I can throw that thing while Sasha leads." Harley piped up.

Sasha looked at her with darting eyes. "Why me?"

"You look like the fastest." Harley brushed off her look with a cold glare.

Sasha shrugged, throwing her burgundy blonde hair off her shoulder. With a plan in mind, they hopped off the edging, Nick having to help Harley down. He caught her hips, lowering her down and staring into her eyes. They were nose to nose, breathing the same air.

"Hey! No kissing until inside the tunnel of love, kiddos!" Ellis screeched, getting a hoot out of Coach.

"Shut the fuck up Ellis, before I make you." Nick growled, pushing himself away from Harley.

"Didn't know he was your boyfriend." Sasha commented over the sound of gunfire. Coach executed a lone infected who was lounging against the wall.

"He's not my anything." Harley responded, sending a pointed look at Nick's back. Did she want to be his something?

"Oh good. He's kinda hot." Sasha had the nerve to say that.

Harley had the right mind to glock slap her across her smug face. Instead, she grit her teeth and stalked ahead to Nick. Her jealousy, something that she had never felt before, blossomed bright green in her heart. Nick had a smug face on as he looked at Harley, turning her insides to mush. Something about his crooked sly grin, or how his eyes ate her in like a fine dinner. Rochelle and Ellis were fucking around with the controls, trying to figure out how to open the fuse box. Coach was looking around the barbed chain link fence, trying to spy out a lever.

Before they were ready, the fence opened with a loud screech. The lights pulsed on, along with loud children's music. Harley groaned in annoyance, watching Sasha dart in front of them. Ellis watched her with hungry eyes, licking his lips slightly. The expression was gone, replaced by a face of determination as the infected loomed on the group. Harley rounded up the front of the group, as her katana had a wide range of motion. Slicing heads with the thing was like cutting butter. It was a calming feeling to her, to get out her anger and pain on the useless dead. or, undead.

The lights turned off, the music crackled to silence. Sasha must have found the lever. She wasn't completely useless. The horde had reached around 40, and overwhelmed the group. Things looked bleak if they didn't get to the tunnel of love, fast. Harley heard the cackling of a jockey a little too late, and there was an enormous weight on her shoulders. It grabbed onto her and covered her eyes with its hands, scratching her shoulders with its talons. The insane laughter was deafening as it led her astray, her screams masked. It toppled her over, the weight too much for her knees. Rolling onto her stomach, she yanked her magnum from her side holster and shot blindly.

"HARLEY!" She heard, a hoarse yell. Nick.

"HELP!" Harley yelled back, wrestling with the jockey. Its teeth clacked as it tried to bite her, frothing at the lips.

Footsteps were heard behind her as Nick shot the creature off her back. It slumped to the side with a sigh, sliding off her slick body. Her wounds thumped with every beat of her heart. It was a healing pain though, not a stinging pain. It knocked the wind out of her lungs, and she gasped for breath.

"Harley, are you okay?!" Nick ran to her side, kneeling down and pulling her body close to his.

"Couldn't breath." She puffed out.

"We have to get you in the safe room, are you bleeding?" He pulled up her shirt, up to the wire of her bra.

"No, I'm fine." Harley tried to get up, but her legs were wobbly.

Nick scooped her up in his arms, holding her protectively to his chest. Even through the smell of blood and gore, she could still smell the scent of lavender. The safe room was dark and spacious, and surprisingly quiet. The only noise was the dripping of water from an unknown source.

"Should we rest here for a bit?" Rochelle asked Coach as she rushed to Harley's side, assessing her wounds.

"Yeah, we're all pretty beat aren't we." Coach sighed, plopping down in the far corner.

Sasha picked to sit in the middle, rolling out a small sleeping bag. Ellis followed her, chattering away about Keith. Rochelle was trying to prepare a meal for them, while Harley and Nick had the corner farthest from the outside. It was pitch black in the corner, but cold. It didn't take long for her teeth to chatter and her body to shiver.

"Are you cold?" He whispered, pulling Harley close into his body.

"I want a cigarette." She mumbled into his jacket.

He hastily pulled off his jacket, wrapping it around her body. It smelled like him, and covered her entire upper body. Pulling a pack out of his jeans, he handed one to her and kept one out for himself. He lit his first, handing it to her and lighting the other one.

"Are you smoking Nicholas!" Rochelle screeched.

"Oh piss off Chelle, calm down." Nick growled.

"Is it that hard to just go outside?"

"Yes, when there are 50 infected trying to eat us." Nick snaked his arm around Harley, pulling her close into his chest.

Rochelle huffed and finished rationing out food, handing Harley and Nick a can of pringles to split. There wasn't access to a stovetop in this saferoom. Or a bathroom. It was meant to be a temporary safe house, nothing permanent. One night wouldn't kill them in here, though. The sun must of set behind the grey clouds, as day was quickly changing into night. Harley suddenly felt exhausted, both physically and mentally.

"Har" Nick whispered after everyone else was long asleep.

"hmm?" She mumbled, content with the feeling of him scratching her scalp.

"Why are you acting so weird around me?"

"I'm not acting weird!" Harley snapped.

He chuckled softly. "C'mere."

Nick pulled her face to his, softly caressing her cheek bones with his thumbs. Through the moonlight, only his eyes were visible to her. She closed hers, feeling safe for once. She didn't realize how much Nick and her were alike. How they were both fucked up creatures, living in the garden of evil. They both had their sins, their shortcomings. But it brought them together. Harley tried to sleep, concentrating on Nick playing with her hair, but sleep didn't come to her. She was restless, shifting against him numerous times. Nick had fallen asleep for a bit, his hand wrapped around her shoulder. She closed her eyes, and forced her breathing to relax..

 _So, psych wasn't her major either. Her last choice was the arts. Harley knew she was gifted with a set of pencils, and it was her last chance before she was shipped back to Dad's. They had a strained relationship right now. They hadn't spoken on the phone for over a month, when before it was constant texting and missed calls. Harley sat on her bed, thumbing through her sketchbook. Her style was haunted, her strokes thick and messy. She sighed, turning to her textbooks. As much as she wanted to study, her head hurt from the night before. Peyton and her went out to the club and snorted lines of coke in the bathroom. Harley's head was constantly aching, the only solace being a joint or a line._

 _She stared out her dorm window, looking at the puffy white clouds dumping snow. The drifts were up to the first floor windows, and classes were cancelled for the week. She flipped open her sketchbook, tapping her pencil against her slightly pursed lips. Harley took a few minutes to come up with a picture in her mind, a scene, a face, something… It came to her, a man. A strong jawline, crooked nose and wry smile. Nick._


	11. Chapter 11

**_I'm Back! Hope you enjoy._**

Harley came to wakefulness with a bolt, her breath catching in her throat. She took a minute to assess where she was. A saferoom in the tunnel of love. moonlight was peeking through the iron bars, a dull gray due to the incoming storm. She was nestled in Nick's arms, his jacket draped around her shoulders. She felt sticky with the humidity, and slightly on edge. She pried herself out of his arms, lighting up a cigarette. She fumbled to light it, lazily taking a drag.

"Harley, why are you up?" She heard Ellis drawl behind her.

"Ellis, scare me like that again and i'll slit your throat." Harley growled.

"Sorry darlin', didn't think you were easily frightened." She saw him tip his hat.

Harley exhaled a sarcastic sigh.

"You know, he really cares about you." Ellis said after a pregnant pause.

"Nick?"

"It's obvious he's in love with you, Har. He wont leave your side."

She laughed acidly "He doesn't love me, he just wants pussy."

"Naw, he's a changed man. I can see the way he looks at you."

"Sasha wants him more than I do."

"Don't fight it Har. We all see it."

And with that, Ellis fell asleep.

Harley was woken up by Nick's gentle prodding.

"Morning, sunshine." He mumbled into her ear, earning a string of profanities.

The tunnel of love was a purple and pink nightmare. The narrow corridors made it easy for infected to hide and ambush when least expected. Harley was less thrilled to see Sasha follow around Nick like a puppy dog. He seemed unaffected by it, which irritated Harley more. Why should she care who Nick screws? They don't have a thing, they've just kissed… a lot. She was lost in her thoughts as they trudged through the dank waters and infected. Her shots were sloppy, the normal headshots were now shoulder nicks and kneecap blows.

"You seem out of it." Rochelle came up to her side.

"What? No. I'm just tired." Harley shook her head, her stringy blonde hair whipping around.

"Don't worry about her, sweetheart. Nick only has eyes for you." Rochelle whispered.

"Why does everyone think i'm in love with Nick?! I'm not okay, I dont care." Harley's outburst halted the group, as it was a bit too loud.

Harley could see the hurt in Nick's eyes, but she didn't care. Her katana slid easily out of her sheath, cutting into the nearest infected like butter. Her rage flowed freely, as she slaughtered any dead that came her way. She didn't even notice her wild screams. Strong hands grasped her shoulders and immobilized her.

"Calm down girl, we don't want an accidental murder." Coach held her at arms length.

She huffed in annoyance. The tunnel curved into a mechanical room, which they used to get out of the tunnel. Things were quieter outside, the dead seemingly finding shelter from the strong wind. Nick stayed far away from Harley, using the down time to chat with Sasha.

"Where'd you learn to shoot like that?" Sasha asked, flicking a brow up suggestively.

"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to." He said darkly, his eyes clouding up.

The roar of a distant charger was heard, as well as gunshots. The team halted immediately, Coach at the head of the group. Harley slunk behind, kicking a rock mindlessly. Her outburst tired her, as well as the emotional cloud that was her head. Nick was her only ally. The only one she could trust no matter what, how could she not love him? But it was wasted love, on a conman who couldn't feel anything but greed.

"We have to climb this rollercoaster to get into the next saferoom." Coach declared.

Harley huffed in annoyance, her brittle blonde hair flitting up from the gush of air. She stalked past the group, accidentally shoulder checking Nick. Harley didn't even know why she was mad anymore, but it boiled inside her stomach. They entered the coaster's tracks due to a fallen over fence, but was stopped by the emergency metal fences placed in front of the tracks.

"So it looks like we need to start the coaster to be able to actually get on it…" Ellis was fumbling around with the controls.

"Well we don't have all day." Harley snapped.

"Girl, we do not need your sass right now. So knock it off or i'll show you something to be sassy about." Coach bellowed, using his angry dad voice.

"Coach, leave her alone." Nick growled.

The two men seemed to bristle like two tom cats, secretly squaring up. It irritated Harley even more. The group had been on edge since Sasha the slut showed up. Sasha was leaning against the wall, flicking the tips of her hair and nosily chewing gum. Where the hell did she even get gum out here? Everything about Sasha irritated Harley. Sasha was the kind of girl Harley would resent in high school because she got to date the shy hot guy who new how to play guitar, while she was stuck eating lunch in the bathroom.

"Earth to Harley!" Rochelle hooted.

Harley snapped out of her funk, readying herself up for the impending swarm. It had been relatively quiet, so all the infected in the nearby area would be alerted by the coaster firing off. Coach slammed his meaty fist on the bright red button, causing a shrill metallic shriek. Harley cringed slightly, before setting off in a dead sprint. Her feet narrowly navigated across the wooden boards as she sliced through the infected, numbly. She felt nothing towards the carnage anymore. It was her normality.

"Harley, watch out!" She heard behind her.

That's when the charger threw her off the rollercoaster.

She held onto the wooden planks for dear life, splinters embedding into her nail beds. She was losing grip fast, and the drop would be a death wish. Hopefully it would crush her skull so she wouldn't turn. The infected seemed to forget about her, charging towards Ellis, the nearest survivor. Harley watched Sasha as she ran past her fallen teammate.

"Dammit, someone help me!" Harley screamed, readjusting her grip. It was a temporary solution.

Nick's calloused palms shot out, hoisting her up by her shoulders. He held her in the embrace for a second too long to be friendly. His eyes spoke words Harley couldn't. This time, it was her who got up on her toes, and planted a soft peck on his lips. It was a wordless acknowledgment, a silent pact. They were lagging behind, and the second horde was picking up. Harley took the lead with her katana, while Nick covered their safehouse was the inside of what looked to be a horse stable, fit with hay bales.

"Fuck, you guys can't run off like that." Coach huffed, slamming the door behind him.

"It's not my fault someone left me hanging off the coaster." Harley snipped, staring right at Sasha. Sasha rolled her eyes and tried to slink her way to Nick.

"Harley." Rochelle's voice was a secret warning.

"You know what, no. I'm not gonna be quiet. That bitch fucking left me for dead just because she wants to fuck Nick." Harley tried to lunge for the girl, but was body checked by Ellis.

"Too bad we already slept together, honey." Sasha's voice was like honey.

At that point, all Harley could remember was shooting the girl straight through the head. And then blackness, as the butt of her gun hit her temple.

She came back to consciousness with a headache from hell. It smelled like blood, and she tasted the metallic rust in her mouth. Her vision was blurry, but she saw two forms dragging a dead body out of the room. It was too bright.

"Hey sleeping beauty." Nick's voice cooed.

"What happened?" Harley mumbled.

"You killed Sasha, and then Coach hit you in the face with your gun." Nick didn't even seem to grimace. Neither did Harley. They both had killed people, before the infection included.

"She deserved it." Harley groaned, trying to sit up.

"I know." Nick helped her to her feet, his fingers lacing into hers.

"Nick?" Harley whispered.

She turned her head, seeing that the safe room was big enough for their conversation to be unheard. Rochelle was dry heaving in the corner, while Coach and Ellis took Sasha's listless body outside. Harley turned to Nick, searching his eyes. All she could see was warmth, no sense of disappointment. Only a true sociopath would be happy his girl killed a slut for him. But Harley wasn't his girl, and Sasha was just a bitch. Nothing more. Nick ran his fingers softly over her cheek. He pressed his lips quickly to her forehead, before pulling away.

"Did you really sleep with her?" Harley whispered, her voice hoarse.

He laughed. "You really think that?"

"Thats not an answer."

He kneeled down beside her. "Truth is, we did."

Harley felt like he had taken her heart out, and stomped on it. This was a new feeling, betrayal. She sat silently for a few minutes, before numbly nodding her head, a bitter smile pressed into her lips. Without a word, she stumbled up and walked right past him, over to Coach. He met her eyes with a firm grimace, Sasha's blood dripped on his fore arms.

"If you're looking for an apology, i'm not going to give you one." Harley snipped.

"I knew you wouldn't. She was a dead woman after she said that to you." Coach's voice was short.

"She said the truth Coach. I'm over it."

Harley knew she shouldn't of trusted any of these people. She hurried to pack her gear, sloppily throwing necessities in her bag. Rochelle usually kept the food rations, but Harley kept some of the shit she had found here and there. All she had to her name now was a sleeping bag, a medical grade health kit, food and water to last her a few days, and her two weapons. No longer did she need these three people to help her.

"I'm uh, I'm heading out." Harley called behind her back to the group.

"Wait, why?" Ellis stopped in his tracks, blood still stained on his cheek.

"Because Nick fucked Sasha." And with that, she walked out.

Harley wandered aimlessly through the aisles of dilapidated carnival booths. Usually, she would search through each of them to find supplies. Now? She didn't give a rat's ass. What was the infection like? She knew the process of turning into an infected was agony, sheer torture. However, the pain in her heart was worse than any physical pain she had felt. Not even the witches claws compared. At this point, Harley realized why it had hurt; She was in love with him.

She laughed bitterly, swinging at the neck of an infected. It's head slid off like butter. Harley was in love with Nick, and he fucked some slut the first day they met. Serves her right for trusting people. She popped a cigarette in her mouth, deciding to cut through a bumper car alley. She didn't feel anything as she shot the infected, her sniper kicking back into her shoulder blade. That would normally be an annoyance.

There was a back door behind the alley, leading to what looked like an old outdoor cafeteria. Cheap plastic chairs littered the concrete, as well as rotting food and flesh. Something smelled awful, a smell Harley couldn't place. The smell was too much, and she began to choke on her own breath. Too late, she realized that the smoker had wrapped its slimy tongue around her neck and pulled.

Harley felt her windpipe bend, the blood rushing to her head. Blood vessels in her eyes strained, and then popped. One hand clawed at the tongue, the other trying to grab her katana. The smoker had pinned her to his body, rendering the thought useless. It was over in less than 10 seconds, as the smoker had fallen lifeless in a cloud of putrid smoke.

"Not even 20 minutes after you left and you're already trying to get yourself killed." Rochelle snipped kindly.

Rochelle and Ellis had followed her. They held sympathetic expressions. Harley didn't need their pity. She was a fool for thinking a man like Nick could love a girl.

"We need to go separate ways. It's a conflict of interest." Harley tried to keep her chin high.

"Har, your eyes are fucking bloodshot. You need to stay with us." Rochelle took a step closer.

She sighed, slumping down to the nearest picnic table that wasn't toppled over. The smoker really took a toll on her. Rochelle lugged out her med kit, dabbing some rubbing alcohol over a shallow scrape on her elbow.

"Rochelle, where the fuck are you guys?" Harley stiffened when she heard Nick's yell. Everything in her body told her to run.

"Just ignore him sweetheart. He really loves you." Rochelle muttered.

"Then why would he just fuck the first slut who ran his way?" Harley gritted her teeth.

"Because he doesn't want to admit he's fallen for you."

Coach and Nick rounded the corner, flashlights drilling into her eyes. She blinked, irritating her bloodshot eyes even more. Rochelle dug around in her kit to produce some eyedrops.

"You found her." Coach sounded almost relieved. Nick looked like he saw a ghost.

"Yeah, she was nearly choked to death by a smoker." Ellis sounded irritated, Harley noticing his death glares to Nick.

"Well, are you staying with us or not?" Nick snapped, looking Harley straight in the eyes.

"Don't talk to her like that man, you were the one who fucked things up." Ellis threw his hat off his head in annoyance.

"We can have this fight in a saferoom, not out here in the middle of a fucking amusement park. Now lets go." Coach boomed. His word was law.

Harley shrugged out of her jacket, as anger warmed her body. The air was damp with an incoming storm, yet she was sweating. They were lead through what looked like an old barn. There were two rotting corpses of what used to be cattle. Harley noticed they had decayed naturally, not being eaten by the undead. They only seemed to enjoy the taste of human flesh. Harley had to cover her nose with her hand, or else the putrid smell would cause her to vomit. She stayed in front of the group, trying to make as much space as possible between her and Nick.

"We gotta climb this ladder onto the roof. I have an idea guys." Coach pointed with his gun.

"Yeah, and what exactly is that?" Harley choked out, the smell still wafting in her nose.

"The Whisperin' Oaks were supposed to play here right? Well, if we can get someone's attention with all those fireworks, we can get out of here!" He seemed to grasp onto that hope.

"We did hear that chopper back in the tunnel of love." Rochelle mused, climbing up the ladder.

Harley heard the hunter a second too late, and it dug its claws deep in to Ellis' back. He shouted in surprise, trying to wrangle the thing off. He fell to the ground with the infected, wrestling like two alley cats. She heard Ellis snap the thing's neck, and it went limp.

Harley laughed at Ellis' disheveled hair, slightly ripped shirt, and hat flung to the ground. She picked it up and handed it to him.

"Thank ya, darlin. Hadn't wrestled like that since me and Keith." She noticed the slight blush in his cheeks.

She also could feel Nick bristling behind her. She snuck a peek at him, seeing him rigid with… jealousy? Harley brushed past him, her shoulder barely clipping his. Climbing up the ladder, she saw an obstacle in her path. The gates to inside the concert were locked shut. Coach and Rochelle also saw the problem.

"If we try and open these gates, an alarms gonna sound." Coach muttered, fiddling with some sort of lever.

Harley shrugged her sniper off her shoulders, finding some scaffolding to perch on. She sized up the metal pole she had to climb. 15 feet wasn't so high up. Her stomach somewhat protested, but she made it up semi decently. Ellis had positioned himself in a corner, his shotgun aimed at the door.

"Har, how you gonna get down from there?" Nick called.

"Mind your own fucking business. Hit it, Coach." Harley yelled.

Rochelle was on the beams below her, lighting the cloth to a crude molotov. Ellis had some sort of hypodermic needle with a substance in the vial. He injected himself, shaking his eyes awake. The group was tired, but the shrill alarm woke them up. Harley lined her sights up to right behind the gates, her heart shuddering at the sheer waves of them. Shot after shot, bodies fell to the concrete.

"Fuck!" Rochelle screamed. A spitter's acid had landed on her shin, burning the skin off.

"Come on guys, the gates opened!" Coach howled.

Harley threw the gun over her shoulder, pulling the katana out of its sheath. Shimmying down the pole, she swung her blade with all her force. It connected with three infected at once. Blood spattered her face, the bitter taste entering her mouth. She shielded her eyes, slashing at anything that moved. She shuffled forward, pushing the bodies away from her and swinging blindly.

"Harley!" She heard yell in pain.

She had slashed Nick's shoulder blade open, blood pouring through his shirt.

"Fuck!" Harley groaned.

He staggered, before falling to the ground.

"GUYS!" She yelped at the three ahead of us.

"Oh god dammit." Ellis groaned, throwing the now unconscious Nick over his shoulder.

The infected swarmed around them. Bullets zipped through the air, katana blade slicing the stragglers who dared hit safe room was located inside a storage room. They slammed the door behind them, shoving a metal shovel through the door jam. Nick was splayed on the floor, face down. Rochelle hurried to shrug his shirt off, revealing the deep gash. Harley swore she could see the faint white of bone.

"Dont just sit there and watch, help me." Rochelle snapped.

"Your leg, 'Chelle." Ellis gasped.

"I'll survive. We need to get this shit fixed."

Harley crouched to the ground, opposite Rochelle. She tried to stomach her anger and betrayal at Nick. She grabbed gauze rolls from her medkit, soaking them in alcohol. This would have to do for sterilizing. She dabbed at the wound, his skin shuddering and his breath quickening. The blood had thinned to a trickle. Rochelle had stuffed the hole with gauze which staunched the blood for now.

"Okay, what do we do now?" Harley gasped for breath.

"We gotta pray to god the bleeding stops." Rochelle's face was that of unknown.

"Let me take care of your leg. Before you try and stitch him." Harley gestured to her shin.

Rochelle huffed, running her bloody hands on her tattered pants. "Okay."

Her adrenaline wore off, and Harley could see the pain on her face. Sweat beads dripped down her temple. Harley took a pair of scissors and cut a few inches of her pants to reveal a large burn, the skin a charred black color.

"I think I need to cut the dead skin off." Harley whispered.

"Just do it. Ellis, Coach, watch Nick." Rochelle commanded.

Harley stared at her medkit, trying to find the right supplies. She rifled through Rochelle's, finding a vial of something called Lidocane.

"Lidocane… That's numbing medicine!" Harley gasped.

She loaded a needle with it, peppering Rochelle's wound with stabs. Taking what looked to be a scaple, Harley sliced off the dead skin, producing angry pink skin. Rochelle whimpered, but stayed calm. Harley then cleaned the wound, wrapping it with a thick layer of gauze and an ace bandage.

"Best I can do for now. We need to focus on Nick." Harley stilled.

"He's hardly bleeding now. Let's throw some stitches in there." Rochelle agreed.

Nick was still lights out, but his breathing seemed to still. Rochelle threw some stitches into his shoulder, as cleanly as possible.

"We can't move until he wakes up." Coach said from his sitting area.

"Well no shit, Coach." Harley snapped.

"If I remember correctly, you were the one who slashed him. And killed Sasha." Coach sneered.

Harley flipped him the bird, and fell into a restless slumber.


End file.
